Labyrinth
by Jedi Rita
Summary: 5 yrs after Ep1, Padme travels to Coruscant to atend a conference on cloning chaired by Bail Organa. She is reunited with ObiWan and Anakin, and they enjoy some R&R before half the party gets kidnapped, bounty hunters show up, and chaos breaks loose.
1. Chapter One

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: jedirita@yahoo.com  
  
Rating: PG-13 for action violence and a little swearing  
  
Category: action/adventure  
  
Timeline: approximately five years before Ep2  
  
Summary: Five years after Ep1, Padme and (a more mature) Jar Jar travel to Coruscant to attend a conference on cloning chaired by Senator Bail Organa. There they are reunited with Obi-Wan and Anakin, and all five enjoy some R&R before half the party gets kidnapped, bounty hunters show up, and chaos breaks loose.  
  
Warnings: Obi-Wan is romantically linked to Bail Organa (i.e., "slash"). If this bothers you, don't read it.  
  
Disclaimer: I am just a Jedi Padawan. I own nothing. All that I have belongs to my Master George: my money, my action figures, my dreams and fantasies. In return he gives me wisdom, many lessons in patience and humility, and the best galaxy in the universe to play in. All hail Master George!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
The sleek, chrome ship emerged from hyperspace and entered orbit around the city-planet of Coruscant, waiting for their escort to arrive and lead them down to the planet's surface. Standing at the observation deck, Padme Amidala, Queen of the Naboo, surveyed the glittering lights of the planet's surface below them. She touched a point on her chest, feeling through the silk of her gown the pendant which hung concealed around her neck, and she remembered the last time she had been to Coruscant, the only time she had been to Coruscant, almost five years ago. She had just been elected Queen when she had to face the greatest trial in Naboo's recent history, their conquest by the Trade Federation. She had gone to Coruscant to beg for help. She smiled as she remembered herself then, so young, so nervous, so frightened, so overwhelmed by the crisis facing Naboo, and yet strengthened by a sense of destiny and responsibility far greater than herself. While the Naboo respected the wisdom and experience of age, they valued equally highly the purity and idealism of youth. That was why they frequently chose young people as their highest leaders, young people who embodied the purest essence of Naboo, who could call upon the Naboo to be their best. It was a symbolic power, but symbols could have tremendous meaning. Padme, with her passionate zeal to stand against the Trade Federation, had successfully led her people in revolt and even forged an alliance with the Gungans. But she had not saved her people alone. Again she touched the pendant hidden beneath her gown and wondered what had happened to the strange little boy who had given it to her.  
  
Behind her, the door to the observation deck swished open, and she heard the lanky gait of her friend and aide Jar Jar Binks as he came up to stand at her side. Like Padme, he had left his homeworld only once before in his whole life. But if he was nervous, he didn't show it. Padme had learned that on the whole Jar Jar did not like new experiences, although he adapted quickly enough once they were thrust upon him. But then, Coruscant would not be new.  
  
For several minutes they stood in silence, watching the planet's surface grow larger and brighter as their escort guided them through the thick air traffic. They crossed the shadow line into Coruscant night side, and Jar Jar murmured an appreciative, "Pretty." Padme did not agree, remembering the scarcity of natural landscape and the enormous buildings lacking in the Naboo concept of grace and beauty. But then she supposed the lights did resemble Otoh Gunga in a way, sparkling through the murky darkness. Perhaps that's why Jar Jar liked it.  
  
"Maybe wesa see Ani," Jar Jar suggested unexpectedly.  
  
Padme was surprised to hear his thoughts so closely echoing her own, although she shouldn't have been. "I doubt it," she replied with a hint of regret. "Coruscant is a big planet, and you and I are going to be very busy"  
  
"Da bigtalk," Jar Jar nodded sagely, although he had only a vague understanding of what the conference was about. He certainly didn't understand the intricate science of cloning, or why Gungan organic technology was now so highly coveted. The ability to clone sentient life had been available for years, but recently the Gungans' organic technology had been discovered to enable the growth process to be speeded up. A fully mature, human clone could now be grown in less than five years. This conference was being held to draft a treaty that would monitor the use of the new technology.  
  
While Jar Jar was only vaguely aware of any of these issues, he accompanied Padme on this mission in his capacity as official ambassador to the Naboo and representative of the Gungans. Padme suspected that the Bosses' choice of Jar Jar as their liaison had as much to do with their desire to get him out of their way as a concern for their relations with the Naboo, but if the Naboo valued youth, in the same way Padme valued Jar Jar. He might not be much of a strategist, but his simple observations, even on situations and issues he knew nothing about, had given Padme valuable insight on more than one occasion.  
  
"But maybe before that," Jar Jar offered. "We do have time, methinks."  
  
"You can look for him if you want to, Jar Jar, but I want to meet with Bail Organa."  
  
Jar Jar's eyestalks contracted as he scoured his memory. "Da Grand Boss from Alderooni," he finally announced. "Maybe mesa should talk to him, too, eh?" he asked, although his tone betrayed his desire to look up Anakin Skywalker instead.  
  
"No, that's not necessary," Padme assured him. "I have heard many great things about the Prince, and I simply want to have the chance to get to know him before the conference." She had not told Jar Jar yet about her own private agenda for Coruscant. She would soon have to make some very important decisions about her future, and while she eventually wanted Jar Jar's advice, she wanted to talk with Bail Organa first.  
  
The intercom chimed and a voice announced, "We will be landing in five minutes, Your Highness."  
  
"Thank you, Captain." She turned to Jar Jar. "Let's get ready, then, shall we?"  
  
Their arrival was unmarked by pomp or circumstance, and Padme breathed a secret sigh of relief that Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was not there to greet them. Either he had not learned of their early arrival, or less likely, had chosen not to come. Padme hoped that he was still not expecting them until the beginning of the conference. She did not want him to know she would be meeting with Bail Organa, since he was one of Palpatine's most vocal critics in the Senate. For that reason also she had decided to be housed in the Conference Complex itself and not at the Naboo Embassy. With luck, she would be undisturbed for the next few days.  
  
Once at the complex, her handmaidens fussed around her, getting her settled into her apartments. She changed out of her traveling gown into a simpler but no less formal outfit, and touched up her ceremonial makeup before her meeting with Prince Bail. The Naboo had a very formal sensibility when it came to clothing, and despite the personal nature of her business with Organa, Padme felt she had to make a suitable appearance before the Prince and Senator of Alderaan. So she dismissed her attendants, and having sent a message on ahead, walked alone to Bail Organa's apartments.  
  
Despite being unattended herself, Padme was surprised that Bail Organa himself open the door to greet her. "Welcome, welcome," he proclaimed in a soft but warm voice. "Do come in and make yourself comfortable. I trust you had a pleasant journey?"  
  
"Yes, I did, thank you," she replied as she seated herself in an offered chair. The furniture of the room was the same as hers, but elegantly brocaded fabrics had been draped across the chairs and sofa, and several small but tasteful pieces of art decorated the room.  
  
Organa sat down across from her and called, "Charris, some refreshments for my guest, please."  
  
An old attendant entered, bearing a tray of fruit and some beverages which he placed on the table between them before discretely returning to his post in the other room, leaving them alone.  
  
"These are some of our Alderaani fruits I thought you might enjoy," Organa said as he prepared plate for her. As they exchanged pleasantries, Padme formed her initial impression of her host. He was wearing an expensive but casual robe. His black hair tumbled over his forehead in thick curls. He had a rather aquiline nose, and his black eyes were half-closed, as if had just woken up from a nap, an impression further heightened by the soft, mellow tones of his voice, and his casual way of reclining back across the couch. Padme supposed he was good-looking enough, although she didn't find him to be the dazzlingly handsome man he was reputed to be. In fact, Bail Organa had a larger than life reputation for just about everything, from his wise leadership and shrewd skills of negotiation, to a somewhat notorious reputation as a playboy with a penchant for fine clothes, extravagant parties, and handsome men and women. So far his clothes and manner, though elegant enough, confirmed the latter impression in Padme's mind rather than the former, but she suppressed judgment until she got to know him better.  
  
"I have long look forward to meeting you," Bail was saying as he leaned back on the couch. "I have heard so much about the formidable young queen of Naboo, and I'm pleased you were willing to come early so we would have a chance to get to know one another."  
  
This surprised Padme. The Naboo were known to keep pretty much to themselves. When and why would Bail Organa ever have heard her, other than in the context of the coming conference? "I am flattered," she answered diplomatically. "I have also heard much about you and am eager to exchange ideas with you."  
  
"Most we discuss cloning so soon?" Bail replied in a manner entirely to flippant for Padme. After all, this man was supposedly one of the galactic experts on the issue.  
  
"Actually, I am also very interested in your views of the current government."  
  
Her words were mildly phrased, but their import was not lost on Bail. While his expression remained unchanged, his voice grew sober as he observed, "Your former Senator has many admirers these days. I'm afraid I do not share their enthusiasm."  
  
Padme considered the statement for several minutes before adding, "Nor, indeed, do I."  
  
Bail's sleepy eyes woke up slightly. "But Naboo has done well since Palpatine became Supreme Chancellor."  
  
"Yes," she agreed in the tone that said otherwise, "so it would appear."  
  
Leading forward, she continued, "I wish to discuss these matters frankly with you, Your Highness, and I trust that our conversations will remain strictly confidential." She paused, and Bail nodded. He was also widely reputed to be honest and trustworthy, so Padme continued, "Chancellor Palpatine has indeed done well by Naboo, and we are enjoying great prosperity and peace. This treaty on cloning would bring us tremendous wealth, but I fear it comes at a price." Her eyes clouded. "And I worry about the price he expects the Republic to pay for his leadership as well."  
  
Bail had certainly not expected Padme to speak this way about her fellow countrymen, and he looked at his guest with rising respect. "It seems that we will have a great deal to talk about after all."  
  
Padme nodded, but said nothing. She had carried these thoughts in her heart for a long time, sharing them with no one in light of Palpatine's popularity on Naboo, and she now found it hard to put her hidden concerns into words. "I first began to notice it during the invasion of the Trade Federation, though at the time I was too concerned about my people's fate to worry myself with Palpatine's tactics. But when I had time to reflect on it, I grew troubled with the way Chancellor Valorum had been overthrow, and the role I played in it. We Naboo are a people of peace. We always prefer to talk things out, though sometimes we're too fond of talk at the expense of action. But to call for a vote of no confidence like that.... I would have never done it if the situation on Naboo had not been so desperate, and I suppose even in retrospect I would still have done the same. Nevertheless I came to feel I had been manipulated into an action that was contrary to the way we do things on Naboo. It seems that Palpatine is often bringing about changes on Naboo, rushing issues through consensus, even calling for a vote. Of course he is not directly concerned with government issues on Naboo anymore, but he weighs in with his opinion, and many people, perhaps out of respect for the Supreme Chancellor, go along with his suggestions. It's true his methods get results, but at the expense not only of our traditional form of government, but also I fear at the expense of civic harmony."  
  
Despite the gravity of her concerns, Bail had to suppress a smile at her flowery and formal words. Had he ever been so serious when he was her age? He doubted it. That was the trouble with young leaders: responsibility bred in them too sober an ego for his tastes. He, on the other hand, had been raised for the job and he knew how to exercise leadership without all this self-importance. He would have to work on her.  
  
Dismissing this irrelevant train of thought, Bail answered her, "I'm not aware of all the details on Naboo, but what you have described sounds similar to what I have observed in the Senate. Palpatine seems far more concerned with results than methods. True, our methods have gotten a bit out of hand lately. We are over-bureaucratized, for one thing. But people are so eager for results in stamping out corruption that they fail to see the dangerous precedents being set, especially when it comes to stifling dissension. Yet when I voice my concerns, I'm called a worrier and old- fashioned." Bail smiled. "My mother can't believe it's me they are talking about. She says I've never worried about anything in my life."  
  
Steering their conversation away from such personal waters, Padme said, "Your experience in the Senate leads me to the matter I really want discuss with you. My term of office ends next year, and I had been encouraged to run again. But Palpatine worries me, and I begin to wonder if I would not serve my people better if I leave them to serve in the Senate."  
  
Bail grinned broadly. Her formality aside, he was beginning to really like her. "To keep an eye on Palpatine?" he intimated.  
  
Padme would not put it that way, but she conceded, "Yes, I suppose so."  
  
"Your Highness, I think I would enjoy having you as a colleague in the Senate," Bail smiled, delighted. "Think of the trouble we could stir up! This cloning conference should give us a chance to see how we would work as a team."  
  
Padme frowned at how quickly her would-be colleague jumped to conclusions. "I have made no decision yet," she warned.  
  
"Of course not. But there is plenty of time for that. I shall enjoy discussing these matters with you, but I hope you'll also allow time for more leisurely pursuits. Some old friends of yours will also be attending the conference, and I invited them early expressly so that we can all have some time together."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You'll see, you'll see. We will discuss business tonight, and tomorrow morning if you wish, but the afternoon and evening must be given over to recreation. You'll leave aside your royal regalia, I hope." Padme chafed being told what to wear. "And the Gungan Ambassador will come, too?"  
  
"If you insist," she answered. Bail Organa couldn't possibly know Anakin, could he? She could think of no other "old friend" she had on Coruscant. But perhaps he meant some other head of state or business contact she had met before over the cloning issue. She refused to go along with the secretive game Bail seemed intent on playing, so she did not ask further who he meant.  
  
"Very good," Bail declared, settling back on the couch with a dazzling smile. She could at last see why he was described as charming, although she had no interest in succumbing to him.  
  
But his mind had returned to their earlier discussion. "So tell me more, Your Highness, about why you distrust the Supreme Chancellor," he said amicably, pausing to sip his drink. "And what you plan to do about it." 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
"I wonder if she still remembers me?" Anakin mused as he and Obi-Wan rode to the Conference Complex the next day. He was bouncing his right leg nervously, and despite years of training in patience, Obi-Wan struggled to resist the urge to grab Anakin's leg and hold it still.  
  
"I doubt she could forget you," he observed in reproof.  
  
Anakin wiped his palms on his pants legs, a gesture which did not stop his leg from bouncing. "I don't know," he fretted. "I was just a little kid then."  
  
Obi-Wan turned his face to the speeder's window in order to hide his smile, amused that Anakin, usually brimming with self-confidence, was so uncertain. Anakin was generally very open about his feelings, but he held some subjects, and people, close to his heart. He almost never spoke of his mother to Obi-Wan, and he certainly never talked about Amidala. But Obi-Wan long suspected he secretly carried a torch for the young Queen, or rather the "handmaiden" he had met on Tatooine. The boy's current nervousness was all the confirmation Obi-Wan could need. He only hoped Anakin would not be disappointed in the reunion.  
  
Obi-Wan was glad Bail had arranged this gathering before the conference. Anakin was going to be bored by all the talk, but a few days with Amidala and Jar Jar would hopefully give him enough excitement to make it through the conference, as well as distract him enough to give Obi-Wan some time with Bail.  
  
They arrived at the complex and settled the few things they had brought in their assigned rooms. They could have commuted from the Jedi Temple every day, but Anakin and even Obi-Wan relished opportunities to leave the Temple, besides the fact that they were both looking forward to the company. In their eager anticipation of the reunion, they did little more than throw their bags into the rooms before setting off for Bail's apartments.  
  
As soon as they were admitted, Obi-Wan saw that the suite had been redecorated in typical Bail Organa fashion. The Prince hated the impersonal style of multiple-user buildings, especially bureaucratic ones like the Conference Complex, and wherever he went he always brought along a few things to make the place suitable to his tastes. He'd even finally succeeded in persuading Obi-Wan to add a tapestry and a small rug or two to his own apartment in the Jedi Temple. Raised as he had been with the austere tastes of the Jedi, Obi-Wan had nevertheless grown to appreciate Bail's creature comforts.  
  
Hardly had the door been opened to them when Anakin burst out, "Are they here yet?"  
  
Bail laughed. "I'm afraid you've beaten them, but they'll be here any minute." He greeted Obi-Wan with a kiss on each cheek before extending his hand to Anakin for a perfunctory shake. Anakin would never submit to the traditional Alderaani form of greeting, and Bail accepted this in good spirits. He knew Anakin didn't like him. He believed the boy was jealous of Bail's relationship with Obi-Wan, but this was only partly true. In fact, Anakin resented Bail because of the effect he had on his master. The only time Anakin ever saw Obi-Wan completely relaxed and comfortable was in Bail Organa's presence. Although padawan and master were extremely close, Anakin had to work hard to elicit a smile from Obi-Wan, so he resented the fact that his master handed them out so freely to Bail.  
  
This resentment aside, Bail Organa was the classiest person Anakin knew, and in his effort to erase all traces of his former life as a slave, Anakin had undertaken to learn all he could about taste, art, and the finer things in life from the Prince. So as Obi-Wan relaxed in a chair, Anakin surveyed the room with a critical eye. "Malvingian tapestries," he announced, taking in the draperies, "and that vase is from Heladi Prime. Antique?"  
  
"Yes," Bail conceded. "But not too antique. My parents would kill me if I broke it, even though they weren't the ones to pay for it. How did you know it was antique?"  
  
"There's so much red in it," Anakin answered with authority. "It's the fashion nowadays to use blue."  
  
"Very good. So that means it must be at least how old?"  
  
Anakin's brow furrowed. "I don't know."  
  
"At least 150, ever since their trade agreement with Heladi III and they were able to get their hands on Heladi III's beautiful lapis lazuli," Bail informed him. "That vase is barely an antique, really, only about 200 years old."  
  
Anakin carefully stored this information in his brain. He could have an amazingly accurate memory for such details, though Obi-Wan could not understand why. His padawan quizzed Bail on some of the other pieces in the room while Obi-Wan struggled not to yawn in boredom.  
  
The art lesson was interrupted by the buzzing of the door chime. Anakin jumped in anticipation but fortunately had the presence of mind not to drop the statuette he'd been holding. While Bail went to the door, Anakin struggled to decide whether he should sit, going for the casual approach, or remain standing more formally. He had just decided to sit down when Obi- Wan stood up. Anakin tottered a moment before righting himself, standing awkwardly at Obi-Wan's side.  
  
Padme, however, accustomed as she was to diplomacy and dealing coolly with all kinds of difficult meetings, felt no discomfort in anticipation of this meeting, while Jar Jar had little interest in who Bail's mystery guests might be since his efforts to track down Anakin at the Jedi Temple had proven futile. No one at the Temple knew who "Ani" was, and Jar Jar had forgotten Anakin's full name.  
  
"Welcome, welcome!" Bail greeted them effusively when he opened the door. He kissed Padme on both cheeks and was about to do the same to Jar Jar, except he wasn't sure where exactly the Gungan's cheeks were. "Your friends are already here and eager to see you again."  
  
He stepped aside, and Padme recognized Obi-Wan easily enough. He had let his hair grow longer, reaching just past his ears, but other than that, he had scarcely changed since she saw him last. But the young man standing next to him, wearing a sour expression as if he suffered from acute indigestion.... Could it possibly be --?  
  
"Ani!" Jar Jar cried jubilantly, his arms thrown wide as he leapt across the room to greet his old friend.  
  
"Jar Jar!" Anakin returned, throwing himself wholeheartedly into the Gungan's embrace. He had almost forgotten Jar Jar was coming too, but he was nevertheless elated to see him again, and greeting him was certainly easier than facing the Queen.  
  
While Anakin was being pounded by Jar Jar, Padme exchanged greetings with Obi-Wan, though her attention was focused as discreetly as possible on Anakin. She would never have recognized him as the curious little boy she'd met in Watto's shop. He stood almost as tall as Obi-Wan, and had clearly not reached his full height yet. Baby fat had been replaced by adolescent lankiness, but his shoulders were beginning to broaden, and she could tell that beneath his finely cut and stylish black and red tunic he was well built and toned. All that Jedi training, no doubt. His hair had darkened, no longer bleached by Tatooine's twin suns, and it was cut close as Obi- Wan's had been. His padawan braid reached well past his shoulder, a testimony to how long it had been since she had last seen him. Only when she dared to look fully into his blue eyes did she at last recognize the boy she had known.  
  
"Hello, Ani," she said, her voice steady.  
  
As accustomed as Padme was to making a grand appearance as Queen of Naboo, she had no idea what a devastating impact her entrance had had on Anakin. She had been almost full grown when she'd met Anakin five years ago, and she had gained barely an inch in height since then. But if Anakin was still a lanky adolescent, Padme had now grown into all the curves of womanhood, and her face glowed with youthful health. If she had first walked into Anakin's life like an angel from Iego, she now floated back into it like a goddess from Lugomer, whose footsteps caused flowers to spring forth from the desert, and whose bright eyes gave the sun its luster.  
  
Anakin blushed deeply in the face of such loveliness. Obi-Wan cleared his throat pointedly, and Anakin at last realized he was staring. "Hello, Ami-- ," he paused, unsure how to address her. "Your --, uh..."  
  
"You may call me Padme in private," she offered with what she thought was a gentle smile, but which struck Anakin like a thunderbolt. "It's my real name, anyway. Amidala is my royal name."  
  
Anakin sighed dreamily. "You can call me Ani," he answered, completely unaware that she already had. He had shed that nickname when he left Tatooine.  
  
She smiled again, and Anakin lost the ability to breathe.  
  
Amused by his padawan's shell-shocked state, Obi-Wan shot Bail a saucy glance, then said to Padme, "It is a pleasure to see you again, Your Majesty, and we're looking forward to the conference as well."  
  
"The pleasure is mine," Padme returned. She did not, Anakin noted with pleasure, encourage Obi-Wan to call her "Padme."  
  
"And it's good to see you as well, Jar Jar," Obi-Wan continued. He seemed to have forgotten he had ever once called the Gungan a pathetic lifeform.  
  
"Oh, Obi, muy muy mesa happy to see yousa!" Jar Jar effused, throwing his arms around the Jedi, who endured the embrace with dignity.  
  
"Now we are all reaquainted," Bail beamed, feeling himself to be the author of all this happiness, "and I absolutely forbid any discussion of clones, politics, economics, or any other serious subject for the next 20 hours. Instead we will enjoy ourselves in the company of good friends. Anakin," and here he threw the boy a conspiratorially wink which normally would have irritated the young padawan, "it shall be up to you and me to ensure that these two sober people never refer to business."  
  
For once, Anakin was happy to oblige.  
  
*****  
  
Ever the master of ceremonies, Bail had made all the arrangements for the day. Since Padme and Jar Jar had only been to Coruscant once, he had planned a tour of some of the major sights, choosing with care places that would be interesting, but not so distracting as to prevent conversation. Parks and monuments that the bill perfectly, requiring attention only at first, and afterwards enjoyed best in the company of friends.  
  
Their party quickly split into two groups, with Bail and Obi-Wan in the lead, looking back occasionally to make sure the others were still with them. The younger three hung together. Initially Anakin and Padme were a little shy with each other, but Jar Jar's natural garrulousness broke the ice, and all three were soon chattering away, remembering old times and recounting exploits from the intervening years. Anakin found his attention divided between Jar Jar and Padme, which was not an easy place to be considering how different the two were, quite apart from how different Anakin's interest in each was. He had all kinds of wild stories to tell Jar Jar, but he was not sure Padme would find them equally diverting. Likewise he wanted to impress Padme with his hard won education and class, especially some of the more choice bits he had picked up from Bail -- guaranteed, he felt, to impress royalty, but of less interest to a Gungan. He walked between the two of them, feeling sometimes as if he were literally talking out of both sides of his mouth at once.  
  
Obi-Wan was well aware of his padawan's dilemma, and after an hour or two he and Bail let the others catch up, whereupon he seamlessly snagged Jar Jar into conversation, leaving Anakin and Padme to fall behind on their own.  
  
At first they recovered some of their initial awkwardness without Jar Jar to help things along. They were walking by a small lake in a park, and for a while they watched the people boating or playing near the water. Eventually, Padme remarked, "I didn't know Coruscant had nice places like this."  
  
"Yeah, it's not so bad when you get to know it," Anakin agreed.  
  
She glanced at him. "Do you ever miss Tatooine?"  
  
"Never!" he spat with an intensity that startled her. For an instant his face contorted with anger, but he quickly recovered his composure, though it required some effort.  
  
Padme was tempted to drop the subject entirely, but she felt again that strange bond she'd shared with Anakin when they first met, and she plucked up the courage to say, "I can't imagine how hard is for you to be apart from your mother." He said nothing, but some of the tension in his face eased, as if he were grateful she had noticed. She continued, carefully, "How is she?"  
  
Anakin looked away, and she sensed his unease. "I don't know," he confessed. "I never hear from her."  
  
They walked on in silence, Padme waiting patiently for him to say what he had never shared with anyone before. Eventually, he continued, "I tried several times to write to her, but I didn't know what to say. 'Hi, Mom, I'm having a ball; sorry you're still a slave'? Every time I think of her stuck there...." He balled his fists at his sides as impotent rage overcame him. He let its familiar heat wash through him, using Jedi calming techniques not to help him rise above it but to force it deep down inside him.  
  
"I'm learning, though," he said, his voice steadier and filled with resolution. "Every day I'm learning more so that someday I'll go back and get her out."  
  
"I know you will." They were not empty words; she believed it. "She is a very special person, and I admire her courage. I know she's very proud of you."  
  
Anakin felt tears rising within him, but he forced them down, too, feeding them to the ravenous beast that lived in his heart and swallowed all his dark thoughts. To change the subject, he asked, "How is your family?"  
  
Following up on his lead, Padme said, "They're fine. They don't live in Theed, but I see them often enough. You should come to Naboo sometime and visit their farm. You would like it." Padme never invited anyone to her family's farm, not even her handmaidens, but it seemed natural to invite Anakin. A thought occurred to her. "Are Jedi allowed vacations?"  
  
"Ha!" Anakin snorted, some of his good humor returning. "Not often enough! We almost always go to Alderaan. The Prince has some great speeder bikes and skyhoppers. He lets me take them out and race them. Obi-Wan usually doesn't let me do that on Coruscant, but on Alderaan he doesn't mind. Sometimes he and the Prince come with me. They're both good pilots, but nowhere near as good as me." He couldn't help boasting. After all, it was true.  
  
"Well, I don't know that Naboo is much good for racing, but you are always welcome to come. Obi-Wan, too, of course."  
  
Anakin brightened at the invitation. "I'll tear him away from Alderaan for once. Or better yet, he can go to Alderaan by himself, and I'll come to Naboo! We don't always have to go everywhere together." He smiled. "You know, whenever we would go out on a mission undercover, people always used to think he was my father. But I'm getting tall enough they're going to think we're brothers."  
  
In fact, now that he'd mentioned it, Padme realized he even sounded like Obi-Wan. He periodically mimicked his master's accent, but it came and went, mostly manifesting when Anakin wanted to sound important or worldly. She could see how people might think he and Obi-Wan were related, but it made her wonder about his real father. Curious, she asked, "What happened to your father?"  
  
"I never had one," Anakin said easily. Some people might find such a statement shameful, but slaves knew well the heartache of broken families. Some didn't know where they had come from, while others had been sold into slavery by their own parents. For Anakin to have no father did not strike him as at all unusual or worthy of sympathy, and since he was so unconcerned, Padme likewise dropped the subject.  
  
They again fell silent, and Anakin found the topic of family leading him to an issue of more immediate concern. Plucking up his courage, he asked, "Do you have a boyfriend?"  
  
Padme laughed. "Of course not!"  
  
This news encouraged Anakin, and he grew bolder. "Why not? I would think thousands of guys must be in love with you."  
  
"Maybe," she smiled coyly. "But I don't have time for that kind of thing."  
  
"If I lived on Naboo, I'd make sure you had time," Anakin asserted.  
  
She laughed again. This was more like the boy she knew on Tatooine! "You probably would! Too bad you're too young for me."  
  
But Anakin was not deterred. "I won't be this young forever."  
  
"No, you won't," she relented, but he was still too young for her to see any harm in their flirting. "Who knows what will happen in a few years?" She cocked her head at him. "But what about you? Do you have any girlfriends?"  
  
"No way!"  
  
"Aren't there thousands of girls in love with you?" she teased.  
  
"Yeah," he replied matter-of-factly. "But I'm not interested in any of them."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I know exactly the girl for me." He gazed at her frankly, but without any expectation of reply.  
  
Padme hesitated. He really was going too far, but he was merely stating what he felt, and she had asked the question. She tried to take the higher ground by saying magnanimously, "I wish I was as sure of myself as you are."  
  
"You will be," Anakin assured her, "when your mind is made up."  
  
In the face of such confidence, it was Padme who was left feeling like a child.  
  
Suddenly Anakin glanced forward to where the others had gone ahead, his expression concerned. Padme followed his gaze and saw that a crowd had assembled around Obi-Wan, Bail, and Jar Jar. Without a word, the two of them rushed to catch up.  
  
Several people in the crowd were arguing heatedly, pointing accusing fingers at Bail and haranguing him. Obi-Wan stood by, poised for action if the need arose.  
  
"You of all people should know better!" one of the troublemakers accused the Prince. "I thought Alderaan stood for truth!"  
  
"We strive to," Bail answered mildly. "But not everyone agrees on what truth is."  
  
Another youth came forward. In fact, most of the crowd was young, not much older than Padme, and she guessed they were all university students. "Well, one thing is certain, the truth can't be manufactured. And that's what cloning is: the manufacturing of something to make it look like the truth."  
  
"I beg to differ with you," Bail said. "The truth certainly can be manufactured, in art, poetry, music. One could argue that creativity is nothing more nor less than the manufacture of truth."  
  
"It's not the same thing! Don't twist it around with your fancy words! Cloning must be stopped!" Those in the front of the crowd murmured in agreement.  
  
The Prince handled their hostility with consummate skill. While it was clear Obi-Wan wanted to disperse the crowd and remove Bail to safety, the Prince sought to engage the students in discussion. "You assume that cloning can only be used for evil purposes," Bail continued. "You fear it the way some people fear ideas. But ideas are neither good nor bad in themselves until someone acts on them, either responsibly or irresponsibly. Cloning can have valuable uses, but we'll never be able to explore them if we decide at the outset that cloning is wrong."  
  
"You are equating the suppression of an unnatural crime like cloning with censorship?" the lead student asked in disbelief.  
  
"What would you have me call it? At least at this conference ideas are welcomed. Even the True Life Movement will be represented. I might point out that there were many who did not want the TLM to be present at all. It was I who insisted, ensuring their voice would be heard. But if you had your way, there would be no discussion at all."  
  
"That's because there is nothing to discuss on the subject of cloning, and any TLM representatives at that conference are traitors!"  
  
Another student warned, "If cloning is legalized, it will only come to a bad end, and the responsibility for all the evil that will follow will rest on your head, Organa!"  
  
The students roared their agreement, letting loose a barrage of insults against the Prince. The crowd, merely curious at first, now became aroused, some siding with the students and others against them. The shouting drowned out any rational discussion. Obi-Wan stepped in front of Bail, his hand near his saber, and Anakin moved protectively closer to Padme. But Obi- Wan's advance only further antagonized the students, who now began insulting the Jedi as well, accusing them of keeping the elite in power and failing to protect the weak and helpless. Bail raised his hands, trying to calm the crowd with words, but to no end. Then from out of the mob someone hurled a piece of fruit that hit Bail square in the chest. The rage that had been building in the crowd now burst forth as they began throwing things, pushing and shoving at each other in an escalating riot.  
  
"Anakin!" Obi-Wan shouted, and the young padawan took Padme's elbow and led her to Bail and Jar Jar, where they were flanked by the two Jedi. "Let's get them out of here," Obi-Wan instructed. "But whatever you do, do not ignite your saber unless weapons are drawn. It will only anger them further."  
  
Anakin nodded curtly, but Padme could tell he was eager to join in the fight. It wounded him to see his master insulted, and he ached to teach the students a lesson.  
  
The crowd surged around them, and there was no way they could escape. Someone shoved Padme from behind, and she stumbled hard against Jar Jar. Over the shouting a siren began to wail.  
  
"Security has arrived," Obi-Wan explained. Padme was not tall enough to see over the crowd, but within minutes a small skyhopper forced its way through the mass of people. The door opened, and the two Jedi shoved the others inside. "Get them to safety," Obi-Wan told the officer piloting the vehicle. "We'll stay behind and help with the crowd." Then he slammed the door shut on them, and he and Anakin were swallowed up by the mob. The speeder slowly but inexorably threaded its way out of the melee, as Padme pressed her face against the window, searching for the Jedi.  
  
Bail laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They'll be all right," he assured her, although Padme detected a tremor in his voice. "After all, they are Jedi. It sort of gives them the right to be overprotective."  
  
Next to Bail, Jar Jar sat wringing his hands. "Those peoples are crazy!"  
  
Padme had to agree. "Who were they?"  
  
"Most likely members of the True Life Movement. They believe that all forms of cloning should be abolished as going against the natural order of things."  
  
"And they will be present at the conference?" Padme asked skeptically.  
  
Bail frowned at her in disapproval. "As I said, all viewpoints must be heard. Not all members of the TLM are so extreme. University students on Coruscant tend to be rather passionate. They are always demonstrating and looking for a fight on principle. Then they graduate, become senators' aides, and lose all their scruples."  
  
His cynicism struck a sour note with Padme. She was about the same age as those students, and like them she wanted to believe that principles mattered, that one could remain true to one's beliefs. But she was also a politician, and she knew that reality often demanded compromise. Still, political life on Naboo was a lot more civil. Did she really want to give that up and embroil herself in Coruscant's shadier version of civic life?  
  
Now that they were free from the crowd, the security officer turned around and asked, "Are you all right, Senator?"  
  
"We're fine," Bail informed her. "A little shaken up is all."  
  
Her scorn evident, the security officer shrugged, "Another day, another demonstration. Personally, I think those kids should stick to their books."  
  
"The free exchange of ideas is the lifeblood of democracy," Bail observed.  
  
"If that's your idea of a friendly debate, I'm a Hutt's mother," the security officer dismissed. "So, where do you want me to take you?"  
  
Jar Jar leaned forward. "Wesa no leavin' without da Jedi!"  
  
Bail agreed, "He's right. If you could just take us somewhere nearby, we would prefer to wait for our friends."  
  
The security officer nodded and took the 'hopper up to a nearby hover pad where they could wait. Almost half an hour passed before the crowd finally dispersed, the riot ending as quickly as it had begun. Padme kept losing sight of the Jedi, but as the riot dwindled, it was Jar Jar who spotted the Jedi coming toward them. "Dere dey are!" he shouted, waving frantically at Anakin, who waved back. The 'hopper took them back down to ground level, where the two Jedi squeezed into the rear-facing seats.  
  
Trying to conceal how worried he had been, Bail leaned across the seat and gave Obi-Wan a quick kiss. "My hero!" he said archly. Obi-Wan received both the kiss and the accolade with mild annoyance, but he did not let go of the Prince's hand. Eyeing Obi-Wan's stained and rumpled tunic, Bail remarked, "Well, at least now you'll have to change clothes before we go out tonight. You two are filthy."  
  
Anakin enthused, "Yeah, it was pretty wild, everyone throwing food and stuff around. Someone got Obi-Wan right in the face with a sandwich." Obi- Wan shot him a disapproving look, which his padawan ignored. "This one woman had hold of a Fosh, and she was pulling chunks of his feathers out. And a Lumat got so scared it started squirting out defensive pheromones. Everyone nearby started throwing up. It was really ripe!"  
  
"Anakin!" his master rebuked. "I don't think they really want to hear about it."  
  
Bail struggled hard to keep a straight face at Obi-Wan's ongoing battle to instill a sense of propriety in his padawan, but Padme agreed with the Jedi, and Anakin's stories only frightened Jar Jar further. "My am glad yousa safe, Ani," the Gungan fretted.  
  
"Aw, it's no big deal," Anakin dismissed. "Nothing was going to happen to us. This one guy tried to whack me on the head with his big old textbook, but I got it away from him. It was huge! Almost as long as those history books you're always making me read." He smirked at his master.  
  
Obi-Wan reproached him with a frown. "All the same, I think we should reconsider going out tonight. Tempers are definitely running hot on the cloning issue. There could be a repeat of the afternoon's events."  
  
"Absolutely not," Bail protested. "I'm a politician, Ben. Everywhere I go there are always people wanting to stage a riot for my benefit. I cannot live my life in hiding. Nor should you."  
  
Indignant at the rebuke, Obi-Wan huffed, "I'm not hiding."  
  
"We will all have plenty of verbal sparring in the coming days of the Conference. If Anakin is lucky, the representatives of the TLM and the Trade Federation may even get into a fist fight. So we should relax and enjoy ourselves while we can. A night of dancing and entertainment is just what we need." He turned unexpectedly on Padme. "Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"  
  
Flustered at being put on the spot, Padme almost disagreed. She was still shaken by the riot. But in truth she had been looking forward to their evening plans. On Naboo she had few opportunities to have fun with friends. She noticed Anakin leaning forward, hope evident on his face. "I've never been to a nightclub before," Padme confessed.  
  
Pleased, Bail said, "Well, Anakin, there, is a very good dancer, so you won't be disappointed. And Obi-Wan is not so bad, either, once he lets himself cut loose. And as for me, well...." He tossed Obi-Wan a wicked smirk.  
  
"Gungans love dancen," Jar Jar piped up, his earlier fears forgotten.  
  
With that, Obi-Wan knew he was outvoted. He might as well give up his exasperation with Bail and enjoy the ride. After all, the Prince always got his way, and the truth was Obi-Wan was glad he did. "All right," he conceded at last, "but if there is any trouble --"  
  
"There won't be, my dear Bendu," Bail assured him, patting him on the knee. "That's why we let you come with us." 


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
This one has a lot of fun and silliness.  
  
  
  
Chapter Three  
  
That evening Padme faced one of the most difficult decisions of her life: choosing what to wear for her night on the town. Everything she had brought with her was either too fancy or too plain. Of course none of her elaborate gowns would do, but the simple clothes she had brought for casual events were far too severe, sober -- *matronly,* she reflected with dismay. She was going to a nightclub, to dance and enjoy herself. She didn't want to look like someone's austere aunt. She wanted to look, well, sexy.  
  
In the end she raided her handmaidens' wardrobes, mixing and matching pieces of outfits, preening in front of the mirror more self-consciously than when she prepared herself for a major diplomatic function. As she fussed over her clothes, in the back of her mind she asked herself whom exactly she was hoping to impress. Anakin was too young, and Obi-Wan and Bail were too old. But she definitely wanted to make an impact on someone. As a Queen, Padme seldom found herself surrounded by so much raw testosterone, not to mention sexual tension. As she had told Anakin, she had many admirers on Naboo, but they tended to be discreet, distant, formal. On Naboo she could never escape her identity as Queen. But here on Coruscant she could be Padme, not Amidala. She had almost forgotten what that was like. And she had to admit she liked being the only female surrounded by so many handsome men, even if they weren't quite the proper age.  
  
Of the three of them, Bail Organa, Prince and Senator, was the most obvious choice to be the consort of a Queen. She had met his type many times before, although his liveliness made him stand out from the others. At first his casually debonair attitude irritated her, but she was beginning to enjoy it. Unlike any other politician Padme had ever known, Bail Organa didn't seem to care about his image or what other people thought of him. His natural enthusiasm and exuberance drew people to him, not a calculated image on his part. He demonstrated that a public figure of importance didn't have to be serious all the time. Padme could learn from that. Besides, he really was quite attractive, with an addictive smile that she could never resist returning. But Padme could tell he had not unleashed his full charms on her. While he obviously liked her, he betrayed no real attraction to her, a fact which offended Padme. After all, Bail Organa had a reputation for falling in love faster than a Nemoidean could turn a profit. Why shouldn't he fall in love with Padme? Not that she wanted to return the favor: the Prince was ultimately too fancy for her. Besides, the Prince clearly had someone else on his mind. Padme had noticed how he always stood a little too close to Obi-Wan, how they held each other's gaze a little too long. Padme doubted she would stand much of a chance with the Prince while Obi-Wan was around.  
  
Her thoughts turned to Kenobi. He had utterly failed to impress her the first time they'd met, and he scarcely improved the second time around. He was somber, aloof, serious, a little stuck up -- in short, a lot like Padme herself. Out of the three men, Obi-Wan was probably the one her parents would pick for her, "a very earnest, stable young man." The mere thought made Padme shudder. She couldn't even think of a time when she had ever seen him smile. But she hardly had the right to criticize him, for she was no better herself. If she didn't want to turn into Obi-Wan Kenobi, she would have to stop acting like him.  
  
Still, he was not unpleasant to look at, and Padme was at that vain age when she believed all men even remotely attractive had a moral obligation to fall in love with her. But she seriously doubted Obi-Wan would comply. He seemed to be as focused on the Prince as the Prince was on him. Padme would never have paired the two of them, but there was no accounting for taste.  
  
Obi-Wan and Bail, however, were no less likely a pair and she and Anakin, and she had to admit it was the young padawan she most wanted to impress. The idea was all the more ridiculous because she didn't need to do anything at all in order to impress him. She had never forgotten the puppy love of the cute little boy on Tatooine, but that had been years ago. It couldn't still be called puppy love after all this time. And he was no longer a little boy, either. He was growing up to be a very handsome young man. In fact, he was already handsome, and Padme constantly had to remind herself that he was only fourteen. His youth showed in his restless eagerness, but he also possessed an intensity that made him seem older even than Padme. She could still recognize the lost little boy in him, but he was becoming a man, with a man's hopes and dreams and fears. The fond indulgence she'd felt for him on Tatooine had never completely vanished, but now her feelings were overlaid with more subtle, complicated emotions. Her attraction to him disturbed her precisely because she did not fully understand it, and she did not trust what she could not understand.  
  
Padme caught her expression in the mirror. It was the same worried frown she'd seen on Obi-Wan that afternoon in the speeder. She smoothed her brow, then smiled at her image and was amazed at how different it made her look: young, happy, even beautiful. No, she didn't have to be like Obi-Wan, and she didn't have to be like the Queen of Naboo, either. She could enjoy herself. She could dance and laugh. She could flirt with a 14-year-old Jedi padawan if she wanted -- and his master -- and his master's lover. She gave her image a smoldering, sultry look. There, that was better. Now she looked like Bail Organa. The thought made her laugh out loud.  
  
The laughing girl in the mirror was the image she liked most of all.  
  
*****  
  
In the end, Padme assembled an outfit of layers of dark blue and sienna. It was not as spectacular as she would have liked, but it would do. She had taken so long to decide that when she met the others in the Complex lobby, she was the last to arrive. They all stood and greeted her with due ceremony, and Padme was pleased to notice that Anakin could not keep his eyes off her. Bail dressed elegantly as usual in dark blue, his hair a cascade of black curls. Jar Jar sported a simple but stylish trimmed leather vest and pants. Obi-Wan was almost unrecognizable in a pale green shirt, with jerkin and pants of a deeper green. The color brought out the red in his hair, which flowed loosely back from his forehead, and she finally saw why Bail might be attracted to him. But the shining star of the group was Anakin, without a doubt. He wore a thin, silk shirt of blood red, and close-fitting black pants with matching red stripes down each leg. He'd even adorned his braid with red and black thread wraps. With the fine, silk shirt, he was able to clothe himself in a way that revealed the shape of his body more effectively than if he were naked. Padme quickly averted her eyes before she betrayed her thoughts with too long a stare.  
  
The air taxi was waiting for them, and within minutes they flew off into the Coruscant night. "We're going to the Shooting Star," Bail explained, "a favorite haunt of mine. You're sure to like it."  
  
"No doubt I will," Padme agreed, "but I've never been to a nightclub before. I don't really know what to expect."  
  
"Don't worry. It's Anakin's grand debut as well. There will be plenty to amuse you both, an excellent view of the nightscape, all kinds of music and a variety of dancing, and they can make any drink known in the galaxy."  
  
Anakin couldn't help betray his interest in the latter offering, and Obi- Wan gave him a warning look. "You're a little young."  
  
"I'll stick to beer," Anakin assured him.  
  
"One glass."  
  
"For starters. Don't worry, I won't get drunk." He turned to Padme. "What kind of dances do you know?"  
  
Padme didn't realize there were different kinds. On Naboo, dancing, while popular, was ruled by tradition. "I'm not really sure. What kinds are there?"  
  
"You know, dancing in pairs or groups, freestyle, circle and line dances," Anakin enumerated.  
  
"On Naboo, I suppose we mostly do circle dances. I didn't know there were so many other kinds."  
  
"Oh, tons. I know them all, " Anakin boasted.  
  
"I thought Bail said you'd never been to a nightclub before."  
  
"None that *they've* taken me to," Anakin blurted out before realizing what he'd said. He froze in horror. At his age, he was not authorized to leave the Temple at will. Without his master, he should not have ever been to a nightclub at all, but he snuck out of the Temple on a regular basis. If the Council knew about his repeated infractions, they would undoubtedly expel him. He had often gotten caught during his first few years at the Temple, and Obi-Wan had dutifully covered for him, arguing repeatedly with the Council for forgiveness. Every time he got caught, Anakin swore to his master he would never do it again, but sooner or later he would venture out once more. Life in the Temple was simply too secure for him, too monotonous. Over time he got better at sneaking out unseen, and Obi-Wan learned not to press the point. But how would he react now, when Anakin had all but flaunted the fact that he regularly broke one of the Temple's most fundamental rules?  
  
Anakin waited with downcast eyes. The others realized he'd overstepped the line, and they, too, waited to hear what Obi-Wan would say.  
  
"It's not as if I don't know about your nocturnal excursions, Padawan," Obi- Wan said at last. He knew he would never get Anakin to stop. He had learned to make frequent compromises with his pupil, compromises he knew the Council would not approve of. But what else could he do? "As long as you stay out of trouble, and it doesn't interfere with your studies."  
  
Anakin released a loud sigh, weak with relief. "Yes, Master," he said in a proper spirit of penitence. But the silence stretched on. No one seemed willing to pick up the conversation and rescue Anakin from the hot seat. He struggled to remember what they had been talking about. "So... I learned to dance at the Jedi Temple," he offered awkwardly.  
  
To his relief, Padme picked up on it. "At the Temple?"  
  
"Yeah, they have dances at the Temple all the time, practically every week." After all, what else was there to do? He realized, though, that he could attempt to redeem himself in Obi-Wan's eyes. "Everybody gets together, and they play music and sing and dance. Obi-Wan is a wicked drummer."  
  
"Really?" Jar Jar asked in surprise, and the look of disbelief on Padme's face was priceless.  
  
"Oh, yeah. He sings, too, and plays the keyboard some. He's got a great voice." Abruptly he stopped. Usually Anakin took great pride in boasting about Obi-Wan's prowess in all things, but he wanted to impress Padme himself. This wasn't going well. With a casual shrug, he drawled, "Of course, I can play drums a little, too. I mean, anyone can whack a barrel."  
  
Oops. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Obi-Wan's reproach. Padme graciously chose to overlook this comment. "Do you sing, too?"  
  
He couldn't lie. He seemed to be the only Jedi who was tone deaf. "I don't like to sing in public," he pronounced, with a false note of loftiness.  
  
"Me, neither," Padme admitted. "I have a terrible voice." Anakin smiled in evident relief. "Do you play any other instruments?"  
  
"No." Most Jedi played at least one kind of musical instrument, which they were taught starting at a younger age than Anakin had been when he first arrived at the Temple. He had been behind in so many ways, and he didn't like to start something he knew he couldn't excel in, so he'd never taken up music.  
  
"Neither do I," Padme confessed. With a sly grin she added, "I can't even whack a barrel."  
  
Anakin's ears flamed red, as the two older men struggled to suppress their laughter. Bail nudged Obi-Wan in the ribs. "You barrel-whacker, you."  
  
"My can sing," Jar Jar offered.  
  
"Can you?" Bail asked, still struggling to keep a straight face.  
  
"Sure. Gungans love dancen and singen. Wesa singen all the time."  
  
"It's true," Padme confirmed. It was hard to believe now that the Gungans and the Naboo had ever once been enemies. Since their joint effort to defend their planet from the Trade Federation, they had shared in all kinds of cultural exchanges. "The Gungans put on wonderful underwater performances in which they sing and swim in unison. It's become quite popular among the Naboo, and Jar Jar is really very good, although the singing sounds much better in the water rather than out."  
  
Determined to bring the conversation back around to himself in order to further impress Padme, Anakin volunteered, "I can fly anything. Whenever we go out on missions, Obi-Wan always has me fly. I'm the best pilot at the Temple."  
  
Indulgently, Obi-Wan conceded, "Yes, you are."  
  
"I saw you in action on Tatooine." Padme reminded him. "You were great then. You must be fabulous now."  
  
Anakin glowed. He wanted to regale her with one of his many tales of racing on Coruscant, but since all those races were technically illegal, he didn't dare mention them in front of Obi-Wan, especially since his master didn't know about most of them. He cast about for something else. "I'm a great mechanic, too. I can build and repair anything." His face lit up. "One time I built a droid and dressed it in a robe and set it loose in the hall. Obi-Wan talked to it for an hour before he even realized it wasn't alive!"  
  
Bail snickered, "I never heard about that before."  
  
"It wasn't an hour," Obi-Wan objected, embarrassed. "More like five minutes."  
  
Oops again. Anything he came up with to impress Padme only made Obi-Wan look bad. He had to think of something else. "I'm also an excellent --"  
  
Obi-Wan kicked his foot, "-- cook," he supplied, with a meaningful glance. Anakin returned his master's gaze in confusion. The last time he'd cooked anything for Obi-Wan, he had made the sauce too spicy. He remembered vividly how red his master's face had turned when he swallowed the first bite. Their other dinner guests never finished their portions, but Obi-Wan graciously ate every last bite, even though it made his eyes water and his nose run. He'd even asked for seconds. It had been one of those occasions when Anakin felt he would do anything for such a wonderful master. But it certainly wasn't anything to brag about to Padme. Maybe that was the point.  
  
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows slightly. *Enough, Anakin,* he sent.  
  
"Mesa love to try your cooken, Ani," Jar Jar offered. Anakin smiled weakly at the Gungan but said nothing.  
  
With another glance at Anakin, Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Tell me, Your Highness, is this your first trip back to Coruscant?"  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
"I hope you'll have an opportunity to explore the planet."  
  
"There's lots to see --," Anakin began enthusiastically, then clamped his mouth shut before blurting out any number of attractions that Obi-Wan would lock him up for even mentioning. Obediently, he concluded, "Monuments, museums...."  
  
"An encyclopedia of educational opportunities," Obi-Wan finished for him with a sly smile that said he knew full well what Anakin was hiding.  
  
Like a dutiful student, Anakin offered, "You could come to the Jedi Temple, I can show you around."  
  
"I thought the Temple was not open to visitors."  
  
"Nah. They let the Prince in all the time," he dismissed, not bothering to hide his resentment, and consequently blowing it once again.  
  
"The Prince hasn't been to the Temple in over a year," Obi-Wan observed.  
  
"More like two," Bail corrected.  
  
Indignant, Anakin protested, "Well, I'm allowed to have a visitor, too, aren't I? If the Prince can come, why not Padme?"  
  
"And what about Jar Jar?" Obi-Wan asked pointedly.  
  
Anakin huffed in anger. He hadn't meant to leave out Jar Jar, and he realized that he was coming across as an obnoxious brat.  
  
"Yes, well, in the meantime," Bail interrupted, cutting through the tension, "Coruscant has many more pleasurable pursuits to offer, and fortunately, we have now arrived at one of the best."  
  
The airtaxi came to rest on a landing pad next to a covered entrance bearing a holographic image of a meteor. A long line of people waiting to get in snaked around the building, but Bail led their party straight to the entrance where they were welcomed immediately. As Bail led the way to one of the booths, Obi-Wan said, "We'll be with you in a minute," then he snagged his apprentice's elbow and led him into a corner. Anakin scowled in anticipation of the lecture he was about to receive.  
  
Obi-Wan leaned close to him. "You have got to calm down." Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by one of Obi-Wan's classic reproving looks. Anakin dropped his gaze in anticipation of being sent back to the Temple, and he didn't see Obi-Wan's expression soften.  
  
"You're trying too hard to impress her," Obi-Wan counseled. Surprised, Anakin looked up at him. "You can't do all the talking. Ask her questions about herself. Find out about her interests. And if that doesn't work, my advice to you is to keep her out on the dance floor. You really are a good dancer, and she'll enjoy herself."  
  
The last thing Anakin had ever expected to hear from Obi-Wan was such advice in matters of the heart. Desperate, hopeful, he opened his heart to Obi-Wan. "Master, I know I'm too young for her. I'm just a kid. But do you think it's at all possible that she likes me, even a little bit?"  
  
Obi-Wan smiled. "I know she does."  
  
Anakin's heart swelled in sheer joy, and he threw his arms around Obi-Wan in a rib-crushing hug. "Thank you, Master! Thank you! I'll never leave the Temple without permission again, I swear!"  
  
"Don't make promises you have no intention of keeping." Such a rash proclamation deserved a harsher rebuke, but right now Obi-Wan didn't care.  
  
"You truly are the greatest Jedi in the whole history of the galaxy!"  
  
"I'm sure I've heard that one before, too," Obi-Wan chided, but he couldn't hide his smile. Every once in a while he was truly glad to have Anakin as his padawan. "Now let's rejoin the others. Your lady awaits."  
  
They threaded their way through the club's revelers and discovered that the others had already claimed a booth. Obi-Wan slid in next to the Prince while Anakin, opposite him, perched next to Padme.  
  
"We ordered ale all around," Bail informed him.  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
Bail leaned closer, his voice low so the others wouldn't hear him over the music. "Is he in trouble?"  
  
"No." Somewhat embarrassed, Obi-Wan explained, "I was just giving him some romantic advice."  
  
Bail arched an eyebrow. "I didn't know that was part of Jedi training. I would have thought the dispensing of romantic advice to be my department."  
  
"The kind of advice you would give is not the kind I'm eager to have him receive." Despite his disapproving words Obi-Wan smiled, enjoying their banter. He was beginning to relax already.  
  
Across the table, Padme and Jar Jar stared wide-eyed into the crowd. A line dance was in process, and they watched in admiration as the variety of being dipped and swayed in unison to the thumping beat.  
  
"So many kindsa beings!" Jar Jar remarked.  
  
"There aren't many aliens on Naboo," Padme explained, her eyes drinking in the array of species. "We just aren't used to it."  
  
"Theysa dance like Gungans!" Jar Jar added, thrilled.  
  
Bail leaned forward. "Why don't the three of you join them while us old folks wait for the drinks to come?"  
  
"Yeah, let's go!" Anakin exclaimed as he jumped to his feet, eager to take up Obi-Wan's counsel.  
  
Padme hesitated, chagrined. "But I don't know how to do that dance."  
  
"It's easy, you'll pick it up in no time," Anakin assured her. He took her hand and tugged her to her feet. Jar Jar needed no prompting and quickly followed them.  
  
They joined up in the line. Jar Jar mostly followed his own steps, flinging his arms around and flapping his ears. He looked like a disaster waiting to happen. But after a few minutes, Anakin realized the Gungan actually possessed a surprising, if kinetic grace. Padme had been right: Jar Jar really could dance.  
  
The same, however, could not be said of the Queen. She did little more than move from one foot to the other, confused by the steps.  
  
"Come on, it's easy," Anakin encouraged her. "See, like this. Step, kick, step, turn --," he spelled out as he moved smoothly to the rhythm. Padme tried to keep up and stumbled, ending up facing the wrong way. Anakin reached out and turned her around, taking her hand and leading her through the steps. Eventually she stopped being so self-conscious, letting herself go with the flow, and the steps managed to sort themselves out, although she still stepped on Anakin's foot every other measure. He only laughed, his eyes sparkling, and Padme let his laugh fill her and move her through the dance. By the time the song ended, the three of them were gliding along like pros. Then another tune started up, and Padme had to start all over again, but this time she picked the dance up more quickly. As she fell into the rhythm, she was able to watch Anakin better. The Prince had not exaggerated Anakin's grace. His whole body, hands, feet, hips and shoulders, glided in smooth motions of controlled power. Padme had to keep reminding herself he was only fourteen. The crowd around them was likewise captivated by him, and Padme noticed with a twinge of jealousy the large number of appreciative gazes he attracted.  
  
After the next song, the style of music changed, and the line broke up for free-form dancing. Anakin and Jar Jar transitioned smoothly into the new style, but Padme didn't like dances without regular steps. "I'm going to sit this one out," she called to Anakin over the music.  
  
"I'll go with you," he offered.  
  
"No, no, you and Jar Jar stay and dance." She beamed at him. "I'll watch."  
  
Anakin blushed with pleasure and nodded. Padme threaded her way through the dancers back to their table.  
  
"Why did you stop?" the Prince asked as she slid into the booth. "You were great out there."  
  
Padme shook her head meekly. "The true response of a diplomat. I was terrible! I'm amazed I didn't break Anakin's foot, stepping on it so many times. But he's wonderful."  
  
"So is Jar Jar. I keep expecting him to knock someone off their feet, but he never does. It's controlled chaos. I've never seen anything like it before."  
  
Padme took a sip of her drink and rolled the cool glass across her sweaty forehead. Her gaze returned to the dance floor, and she realized Anakin had positioned himself within her line of vision. He saw her watching and winked at her. Smiling, she turned to Obi-Wan. "He's so graceful. I bet he's really good with a lightsaber."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "He is. No one at the Temple can believe it. It takes years of practice to master the saber, but Anakin picked it up as if he were born with one in his hand."  
  
"I'd like to see him practice sometime." It occurred to her that with Anakin on the dance floor, she could find out more about him from Obi-Wan. "Is he a good student?"  
  
The Jedi paused. "When he wants to be. When he sets his mind to it, he always excels beyond everyone's expectations."  
  
"It's because he has a good teacher," Bail supplied.  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I wish I could take credit for it, but I can't. It's something within him, a desire to learn, but only those subjects he fancies." He cast a sidelong glance at Bail. "Like you and those tiresome art lessons. He can't get enough of it. Such-and-such a sculptor in the post-traumatic depressionistic style."  
  
"It's not the boy's fault you're a plebian, Ben."  
  
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Now Bail's getting him into opera. I can only hope that's what he's sneaking out of the Temple at night for. I'd do just about anything for Anakin, but I draw the line at opera. I have no idea why it interests him so."  
  
Bail smirked. "You're just jealous because the boy has better taste than you." He looked at Padme. "Ben can't even dress himself. Anakin picked this outfit for him. He picks out all Ben's clothes, otherwise he'd never change out of his Jedi sackcloth."  
  
Curious, Padme asked, "Why do you call him 'Ben'?"  
  
"It's short for Bendu," Bail explained, "which in Old High Galactic is commonly translated as 'Honored One.'" He cast a sly glance at his companion, "Though I prefer 'beloved.'"  
  
"It's an old term of respect for the Jedi," Obi-Wan further elucidated, "but no one uses it anymore."  
  
"Only me. I'm old-fashioned."  
  
Shaking his head, Obi-Wan continued, "The Prince is inordinately fond of handing out nicknames."  
  
"Yes, and my new one for you is 'barrel-whacker.'" He looked across to Padme and offered, "I'll come up with one for you in a day or two."  
  
Padme secretly hope he wouldn't, but she didn't say anything. "What's Anakin's nickname?"  
  
Bail's smile faded slightly. "Anakin Skywalker does not accept nicknames. Certainly not from me, at any rate."  
  
Padme wondered if there was a story behind Bail's frown. She had begun to pick up on Anakin's dislike of the Prince, but she couldn't account for it. Redirecting the conversation back on course, she asked, "Doesn't he even go by 'Ani' anymore?"  
  
"No," Obi-Wan said. "He's never let me call him that. I'm surprised he invited you to."  
  
"I'd never heard that name before," Bail admitted.  
  
"It's what his mother called him," Obi-Wan began, then stopped as he realized that was probably why Anakin didn't want to hear that name spoken by anyone else.  
  
Padme realized it as well. "Maybe I shouldn't use it either."  
  
"He asked you to," Obi-Wan said.  
  
Rather than make her feel honored, the validation discomforted her. Why was Anakin still attached to her? This went way beyond a crush. Why did he accord her a privilege he didn't even grant to his own master?  
  
The object of her thoughts suddenly appeared at her elbow. "They're starting up pair dancing now," Anakin said. "Want to go?"  
  
Padme looked out onto the dance floor, where couples were weaving and spinning in what looked like a fun, but horribly complicated dance. "I don't think I can," she demurred.  
  
"Come on, you'll pick it up in no time."  
  
"But I don't want to leave Jar Jar alone."  
  
"You don't need to worry about him, he's already found a partner," Anakin assured her, jerking his thumb toward the crowd. Sure enough, Jar Jar and his partner of a similarly amphibious species were engaged in a froglike ballet.  
  
Bail nudged Obi-Wan's hip. "I know I'm ready for a stretch," he said, with an encouraging wink to Padme. The two men disappeared onto the floor.  
  
With a self-conscious sigh, Padme let Anakin lead her out among the dancers. He positioned their arms, taking her hand in his, and instructed, "Now, watch. Here's the basic step." He led her through the dance with infinite patience until she finally stopped stepping on him and got it. "You can't keep looking at your feet," he counseled. "It'll only trip you up. Trust me."  
  
Reluctantly, Padme looked up, but she didn't know where she should direct her gaze. She looked around at the other dancers. "This isn't the way everyone else is dancing," she observed.  
  
"That's all just variation. If you keep your feet in the same rhythm, you'll be fine. I'll let you get used to the steps before we start really getting wild."  
  
Padme let her gaze settle somewhere over Anakin's right shoulder. She was keenly conscious of how close he was, and the fact that his eyes were on her. As she fell into step with him, she could feel the subtle movements of his body directing her. The silk of his shirt outlined his muscles, and she could feel the heat radiating from him. /He's only fourteen, he's only fourteen,/ she chanted in her head along with the music. Fourteen -- the same age she had been when she had been elected Queen of Naboo. She had been even younger when made Governor of Theed. She had also read enough about the Jedi to know that by now padawans Anakin's age were taking on adult responsibilities and mature assignments. Anakin Skywalker might be young, but he was no child.  
  
Through the crowd, she caught a glimpse of Obi-Wan and the Prince, lost in a dance of their own. "Is it true you dress Obi-Wan?" she asked.  
  
Surprised, Anakin said, "Yeah, I guess. He hates looking for clothes." After a pause he added, "He won't even try on half the stuff I pick out for him. One time --." He stopped himself from repeating his earlier mistakes. /Get her to talk about herself,/ he recalled Obi-Wan's advice. /Find out what her interests are./ "So--," he cast about desperately for a topic but could think of nothing. Maybe his master was right and he should just stick to dancing.  
  
Padme offered, "Obi-Wan said you like opera."  
  
/Thank you, Master! Anakin gave a mental sigh. His latest area of expertise. He was about to launch into his knowledge of all the latest stars on Coruscant, with particularly juicy gossip supplied by the Prince's personal experience, when he remembered to check himself. Taking a steadying breath, he asked, "Do you like it, too?"  
  
"Yes. Opera is very popular on Naboo. It suits our tastes."  
  
"Have you seen The Redemption of Chandra Fey?"  
  
"No, we haven't gotten that one yet. Right now we have the Galactic tour of Dreamrunner. It's not really that good."  
  
"Did know the composer wrote it in only two weeks?"  
  
Padme laughed. "No wonder I don't like it! I prefer Brabant's style, anyway."  
  
"Me, too!" Anakin enthused, and they launched into an actual, genuine conversation. Anakin smiled to himself. Obi-Wan would be proud of him.  
  
They were so engrossed in their conversation, chatting away eagerly, that they didn't even notice when the dance ended. Someone tapped Anakin on the shoulder, and he turned to face a Falleen, an extremely sexual species. Even Anakin was not immune to the Falleen's powerful pheromones. With dismay, he watched the Falleen direct his attention to Padme.  
  
"May I have the next dance?" he intoned in a sensual voice that wrapped itself around Padme's consciousness. Mesmerized, she felt herself drawn into the mysterious depths of his black eyes. Without being aware of it, she began to pull away from Anakin. He caught her arm, and she looked back to him, this boy with whom she shared a special bond. Her mind cleared, and she smiled at him. Without looking at the Falleen -- not really trusting herself to – she said, "Thank you, but I already have a partner." She folded herself into Anakin's arms and let him sweep her away, while the Falleen watched them go, dumbfounded to have been rejected.  
  
Anakin beamed, and he was sure the Force actually levitated him a centimeter or two off the floor. "Are you ready to really dance?"  
  
All self-doubt fled Padme, and she answered, "Yes."  
  
His arms tightened around her, and they spun, moving as one. Anakin guided her with the subtlest of pressure and direction, leading her through spins, reverses, and increasingly complicated steps. Padme surrendered herself to the dance and found herself keeping up with no problem, never stumbling or losing step.  
  
Not far away, Obi-Wan watched them with pride and a hint of sadness. It pleased him that Anakin and Padme found such happiness together, but at the same time he knew that love changes everything. Even though Anakin was still too young for any meaningful relationship with the Queen, his interest in her would alter his relationship with Obi-Wan. For the first time, Obi-Wan understood why Anakin might resent Bail so much.  
  
The Prince crooned, "Look at them. Your little boy is growing up. He's going to be quite the heart-breaker."  
  
With wistful concern, Obi-Wan replied, "I hope he never break any hearts."  
  
"Hearts will always be broken, Ben," Bail intoned, not unkindly. "That's what they're made for." The dance ended and another song struck up. With a mischievous gleam in his eye, Bail announced, "I think I'll go take my turn with the Queen, if she'll have me."  
  
"No, Bail, leave them alone," Obi-Wan requested.  
  
"I know she likes the boy, but she might also like to have more adult company on occasion. Besides, it'll be good for Anakin. A little jealousy makes the heart grow fonder. It might even work on *you.*"  
  
Reluctantly, Obi-Wan followed Bail toward Anakin and Padme. "Your Highness," Bail offered, "do you think I could possibly tear you away from this dashing young Jedi for one dance? I would be most honored."  
  
Padme almost refused, but then she realized she could use a break from the sexual tension building between her and Anakin, and with a smile, she allowed herself to be led away.  
  
Anakin looked on with envy, furious that of all people it was the insufferable Prince of Alderaan who finally wooed Padme away from him. Next to him, Obi-Wan counseled softly, "Come, let's go sit down. You can't keep her all to yourself you know." When Anakin didn't move, Obi-Wan added, "This will give you a chance to watch her." Taking the boy's elbow, Obi-Wan led the still reluctant Anakin back to their booth, where they seated themselves all the way to the back, the better to view the dance floor.  
  
Obi-Wan handed Anakin one of the drinks, and the boy began to gulp it down, hot and thirsty after so much dancing. "Take it easy," Obi-Wan counseled. "So, how is it going?"  
  
Anakin turned eagerly to him. "Great! It's all just like you said. We were talking about opera, and I didn't do all the talking myself. We were having a real conversation. She's just wonderful, and a great dancer, too. Did you see that Falleen that came and asked her to dance? She turned him down!"  
  
"I did see that," Obi-Wan admitted. "Of course, now Bail will think it means he's more attractive than a Falleen." Anakin's face clouded again, and Obi-Wan chuckled. Bail had read the boy well. "I don't think you have anything to worry about with the Prince."  
  
Forcing himself to relax, Anakin said, "Yeah, she probably just felt sorry for him because he gets stuck dancing with *you* all the time."  
  
Obi-Wan only smiled and took another sip of his drink. For a while they watched the dancers in companionable silence. It felt good, relaxing together like that, more as friends than master and padawan. Maybe the change in their relationship wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. Obi- Wan would enjoy getting to know a more grown-up Anakin.  
  
The boy finished his drink and casually said, "I'm going to order another one. Do you want one, too?"  
  
Then again, maybe Anakin still had a ways to go before hitting adulthood. "I told you, only one drink."  
  
"Come on," Anakin cajoled. "What's the harm in it? I'm not going to get drunk."  
  
Obi-Wan sighed in a mixture of patience and faint exasperation. "For once, couldn't you just do what I say?"  
  
"But, Master, I always do what you say." He paused a beat. "When it's important." He signaled for a waiter.  
  
"I said no, Anakin."  
  
Ignoring him, Anakin ordered, "Two more beers, please. One for me, and one for my good friend," he beamed, clapping his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder.  
  
/Force preserve me,/ Obi-Wan sighed, eyes closed. /He will never let me win./  
  
"Well, well, well," a voice drawled, a voice Obi-Wan unfortunately recognized. "Look who's out for a night on the town before the big conference."  
  
Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see Jani Kleyvits, Senator from the Oseon system and dedicated enemy of Bail Organa, slide into their booth.  
  
"Good evening, Senator," Obi-Wan greeted her as inoffensively as possible.  
  
"So the Prince has brought his pet Jedi out to play."  
  
Beside him, Obi-Wan felt his apprentice tense. Underneath the table, he laid a restraining hand on Anakin's leg.  
  
The Senator gazed languidly across the dance floor to Bail and Padme. "Awfully cruel of the Prince to seduce the Queen of Naboo right in front of you like that. Usually he's more discreet when you're around."  
  
Again Anakin tensed, flashing an angry glance at Bail, but Obi-Wan kept a firm grip on him.  
  
"Though the Gungan would be the better choice for him to ply his charms with. After all, they're the ones who possess the accelerated growth technology everyone is so eager to get their hands on." She returned her gaze to Obi-Wan, gauging the effect her taunts had on him. "Then again, I suppose even the Prince won't sleep with just anyone."  
  
Anakin could no longer take it. "Jar Jar is a good friend of ours!" he blurted out, prompting Obi-Wan to squeeze his leg even harder.  
  
"Is he, now?" the Senator asked, intrigued. "Some people might see your connection with such key players as a conflict of interest, don't you think, Kenobi?"  
  
"The Jedi represent no interests in the cloning issue, Senator. We have been invited to participate as objective observers."  
  
The Senator laughed cynically. "My dear young man, the Jedi are never invited anywhere as mere observers. Nor are the Jedi as objective as you pretend to be. There are always hidden interests at stake."  
  
"And what interests are you hiding?"  
  
"My interests are in plain view, for everyone to see. Cloning is the wave of the future, Kenobi." Her eyes narrowed in warning. "It doesn't matter what this little conference decides. The technology of cloning is here to stay, and it will inevitably be used. You Jedi had better take heed of that. Those who embrace the new technology will move ahead into a brand new day."  
  
"And those who don't?"  
  
"They will be... left behind." But her false smile betrayed a more sinister consequence.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind, Senator," Obi-Wan replied evenly.  
  
"You do that, Kenobi." She stood up. "I'll see you at the conference."  
  
After she left, Anakin turned on Obi-Wan. "How could you just sit there and let her say those things to you?"  
  
"They're just words, Padawan," Obi-Wan counseled. "She wants to get a rise out of us, and if we take the bait, we place ourselves in her power."  
  
Anakin bit back his reply. This was one of the Jedi teachings he had the hardest time understanding. Where he grew up, to let insults stand only lessened one's power. Obi-Wan might brush it off, but he would not forget the Senator, or her words.  
  
Bail and Padme rushed up to them. "When I saw the Senator here with you, I thought you might get your riot after all," Bail quipped. "What did she say?"  
  
"That we had all best embrace the coming cloning revolution."  
  
Bail sneered. "Typical. She only wants it to breed genetically engineered workers for Oseon's asteroid mines. It's people like her that make me want to become a card-carrying member of the True Life Movement. And what was her line of attack this time?"  
  
Obi-Wan shrugged. "The pet Jedi routine."  
  
"Ah, yes, her favorite. Well, I hope you piddled on her shoes just like I trained you." Obi-Wan couldn't help laughing. "Good boy," Bail said, patting him on the head and handing him a pretzel. "Have a treat."  
  
"It's not funny," Anakin growled.  
  
"Of course it is. You must not let Kleyvits get to you, Anakin. Her threats are ineffective, and her insults are unoriginal. Now if you don't mind," Bail excused, taking Obi-Wan's hand and pulling him out of the booth, "I'm going to take Spot, here, for his walk."  
  
As the two older men disappeared onto the dance floor, Padme studied Anakin with concern. "What did she say?" Bail's words about the Senator's motives troubled her. The Gungans and the Naboo were both concerned about possible misuses of cloning technology, and she wanted to be well informed about all the issues and players.  
  
But she would gain no insight from Anakin. "Nothing," the padawan growled, smarting at what the Senator had said about Bail seducing Padme.  
  
"The Prince is right, Ani. You can't let what people say get to you."  
  
"If you leave insults unanswered, then people will believe they can walk all over you."  
  
"And if you take offense every time someone says something stupid, you end up looking like a fool."  
  
Enraged, Anakin turned on her, "I'm not a fool!"  
  
Startled, Padme shrank back. Anakin felt a pulse of fear from her. Horrified, he let his anger burn off. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."  
  
Padme took a deep breath to calm herself and laid a hand on Anakin's arm. "It's all right. Some people are skilled at reading our weaknesses, and they feed them back to us to bait us. The hardest thing about dealing with such people is not to let your own doubts rule you."  
  
Anakin concentrated on where her hand touched him, its warmth seeping into his skin, salving his wounded spirit. She was right. As much as Anakin found the Prince annoying, he knew Bail was an honorable man, and he would not steal Padme away from him. At least not intentionally. Deep down, Anakin feared that the Prince would simply out-class him where Pad-me was concerned.  
  
Then again, she was here with him now, and not out on the dance floor with Bail. Carefully, he asked, "Do you like the Prince?"  
  
The question surprised Padme, giving her insight into what the Senator must have said to disturb Anakin so deeply. Thoughtfully, she re-plied, "Of course I like him. He's a very lively person. But I prefer --." She stopped, wanting to say something to encourage Anakin, but without being too obvious. "I prefer someone --." Again words failed her. Less sophisticated? Less smooth? Not as charming? These all came across as insults. All she could come up with was, "I prefer someone not so old."  
  
Anakin snorted in laughter. "You mean, you like younger men?" he asked brightly.  
  
"Well," Padme blushed, "younger than the Prince, anyway."  
  
"That'll do for me. Now, what do you say we dance some more?"  
  
"That's the best idea I've heard all night."  
  
  
  
*****  
  
  
  
The party didn't make it back to the Conference Complex until that undeterminable hour that is either very late night or very early morning. To a chorus of "good nights" accented by yawns, Padme and Jar Jar exited the turbolift at their level. The next stop, on the floor where the two Jedi were staying, Bail held the door open, arching a roguish eyebrow at Obi-Wan. "Are you going to come up and have a drink with me?" he asked. "I have a bottle of your favorite wine."  
  
/You always do,/ Obi-Wan thought. He glanced at Anakin, who rolled his eyes. "All right," Obi-Wan agreed, though he was looking at Anakin. "Don't wait up for me."  
  
"I wouldn't anyway," the boy dismissed, turning down the hall without a backward glance.  
  
As the doors closed, and they rode up to Bail's floor, Obi-Wan observed, "It is a little late. Isn't there some big conference we're both supposed to go to tomorrow?"  
  
"It's not as if you have some big speech to prepare for."  
  
"But I seem to recall that you're chairing the event."  
  
"That's why you're coming to tuck me into bed and make sure I get a good night's sleep," Bail offered innocently.  
  
They entered the Prince's suite, and while Obi-Wan settled onto the couch, Bail retrieved a special decanter of rich Alderaani wine he always kept on hand for the Jedi's benefit. He filled two goblets with the ruby wine, handing one to Obi-Wan and taking a luxuriant sip from his own. He sighed, "Young love! It makes me feel eighteen again."  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes smiled over the rim of his glass. "When have you ever acted as if you were older than eighteen?"  
  
"I'm trying to be serious, my dear Bendu. Your little boy is growing up so fast and falling in love. Don't you feel proud?"  
  
Attempts by Bail to be serious tended only to bring out Obi-Wan's mischievous side. "I don't see what there is for me to be proud about just because Anakin's hormones are kicking in."  
  
Bail's dark eyes expressed disapproval. "You can be so insensitive sometimes. I remember when Anakin was just a little mop-haired tyke who only wanted to talk about spaceships, and now every time I see him I swear he's grown another ten centimeters taller."  
  
"And he still only wants to talk about spaceships."  
  
"And now girls."  
  
"A girl," Obi-Wan stressed.  
  
"It's a start," Bail shrugged. "Actually, all this reminds me of something I have been thinking a lot about lately. As I watch you and Anakin together, I've begun to think that I might like to be a father someday."  
  
Obi-Wan almost choked on his drink. Suppressing a twinge of jealousy, he sputtered, "A father? Don't tell me you're going to get married."  
  
"Who needs to get married? I would adopt. It's a common enough tradition on Alderaan. One or two little ones to nurture, to teach, to care for." He paused. "To love."  
  
Obi-Wan marveled in silence for a moment at this new level of personal depth in Bail. The Prince was by no means shallow, but up until now all his more profound and serious aspects manifested themselves in his public life. His private life, on the other hand, seemed to consist of one frivolous diversion after another. The image of Bail as a father required a revolutionary change in the way Obi-Wan thought of him. "What is bringing this on?" he asked.  
  
Bail gazed pensively into the depths of his glass. "As I said, maybe it's seeing you and Anakin together. He's not your son, but he is someone to receive your legacy, someone to pass on your values to and all the best that you are. I envy that. And I suppose, silly as it may sound, it's a way of settling down without having to be monogamous."  
  
"Now that would be tragic, wouldn't it?" Obi-Wan teased.  
  
"If you haven't been able to reform me, I must be beyond hope."  
  
Feeling strangely uncomfortable, Obi-Wan diverted the subject. "Actually, speaking of life changes, I've been thinking of making one myself."  
  
The Prince instantly pounced on the prospect. "You're going to leave the Jedi and become a traveling salesman for Encyclopedia Galactica!"  
  
"Nothing quite so dramatic," Obi-Wan confessed. "I've merely been thinking of growing a beard."  
  
"Absolutely not! Grow a beard, and I shall never kiss you again."  
  
The attempt to rile Obi-Wan didn't work. Quietly, he observed, "Qui-Gon had a beard."  
  
At the name of Obi-Wan's master, Bail grew sober. He had never known Qui- Gon Jinn well, partly by the master's design. Obi-Wan was the kind of person who formed few, but very deep, attachments. As an apprentice, he had been wholeheartedly devoted to Qui-Gon, to the exclusion of just about anyone else. Qui-Gon had therefore encouraged his padawan's relationship with Bail so he would spend time with someone his own age.  
  
Bail, on the other hand, was the type who formed many but brief relationships. All Qui-Gon had to do was introduce him to Obi-Wan for him to become captivated by the novelty of the earnest young apprentice. But it took time and effort, more than he was accustomed to investing, to woo Obi- Wan away from his monk-like devotion to his master. Bail learned early on that his relationship with Obi-Wan entailed listening to endless stories about the wisdom, nobility, and prowess of Qui-Gon Jinn. It pained Bail to know that he would always comes second in Obi-Wan's heart, even now, years after the Jedi Master had been killed. Strangely enough this knowledge only made Bail love Obi-Wan more.  
  
After a few moments of respectful silence, the Prince said, "In that case, I'll make an exception." His capitulation strangely cheered him up again. "You see the sacrifices I make for you, Ben? You may yet reform me. After all, I've been with you far longer than I've ever been with anyone else."  
  
"That's probably because we see each other so rarely," Obi-Wan dryly observed.  
  
"Do you know, you may be right? So that's the secret to happy relationships -- don't see each other above half a dozen times a year. Perfect! We may as well become bondmates, and then my mother will stop pestering me to settle down."  
  
This particular turn of the conversation, however lightly taken, began to worry Obi-Wan. "What are you going on about, Bail? Do you expect me to take that as a serious proposal?"  
  
The Prince paused, and his expression grew thoughtful. At length he said softly, "Of course not." He reached out and tenderly brushed his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair. "But what if it was?"  
  
Was Bail trying to get at something with all this talk of adoption and bonding? How far was he going to go with all this? Obi-Wan did not feel like playing games on the subject, but he refused to talk frankly unless Bail made it clear he wanted to. "If it was, then you know what my answer would be," was his cryptic reply.  
  
Bail was not at all sure he knew what Obi-Wan would say. But maybe that was the point. "Let's leave it at that, then," he conceded, and taking Obi- Wan's glass from him, he gathered the Jedi into his arms.  
  
  
  
*********************  
  
Historical note: the name "Jedi Bendu" was an early name for the Jedi Knights in some of the Master George's first drafts for Star Wars. We all have our explanations for where the name "Ben" came from. Now you have mine. I don't know about you, but personally I can't wait to hear what the official explanation will be. 


	4. Chapter Four

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
Finally, the action starts to pick up at the end of this chapter! Many thanks to the three people who reviewed my story so far.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Anakin woke up bright and early the next morning refreshed, his heart light and happy. No nightmares, and he hadn't woken up once during the night. He hadn't slept so well since ... /Since I left home,/ he thought. But it was a sign of his contentment that even the thought of his mother didn't dampen his spirits. He ordered breakfast, then got dressed and made his bed, reflecting how surprised Obi-Wan would be when he saw that. Anakin never made his bed. As he waited for breakfast to arrive he preened in front of the mirror, licking his fingers and smoothing his hair. He ran his hand carefully along his jaw. He couldn't see anything yet, but he could definitely feel whiskers. He had just decided that he really ought to borrow Obi-Wan's razor when his master entered the suite.  
  
Surprised, Obi-Wan said, "You're up awfully early."  
  
"So are you," Anakin shot back pleasantly, without the rancor he might usually have felt to know Obi-Wan had stayed out all night.  
  
Obi-Wan headed to his room to change and get ready for the day, and Anakin followed him. "I ordered breakfast," he offered, wandering into the bathroom and rummaging through Obi-Wan's toiletries kit.  
  
"Good, I'm starved."  
  
"It's hotel food, so I ordered the deluxe. It should be here any minute." At last he found the razor, and holding it up, casually asked, "Can I borrow this?"  
  
Obi-Wan barely managed to keep himself from blurting out, /Whatever for?/ Clearing his throat, he agreed, "Sure." He couldn't resist adding, "It wouldn't do to have you show up at the Conference looking grungy."  
  
"Well, that's what I thought," Anakin sniffed.  
  
Obi-Wan entered the bathroom and fished the shaving cream out of his bag. Plop-ping it down on the counter in front of Anakin he said, "Go to it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to take a shower."  
  
"What about aftershave?"  
  
"I thought you said my aftershave smells like jawa musk."  
  
"It's not that bad," Anakin apologized, though in truth he didn't think Obi-Wan had very good taste. "Unless you have some of the Prince's cologne lying around?"  
  
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "No, I do not."  
  
"Then yours will do."  
  
"Help yourself," Obi-Wan muttered as he turned on the water for the shower.  
  
"Thanks! By the way, you have a hickey on your neck." Embarrassed, Obi-Wan threw a startled glance at the mirror, while Anakin gathered up the shaving equipment and all but skipped to his own bathroom, laughing. He thought he looked very manly as he lathered up, and he practiced making rugged, tough guy faces into the mirror as he shaved.  
  
He emerged about ten minutes later, without any cuts, and wearing way too much eau de Jawa. Breakfast had arrived, and Obi-Wan had already started eating. As Anakin pulled up a chair, Obi-Wan reached over and grasped his chin, turning his face so he could inspect Anakin's handiwork. "Smooth as Master Mace's head," Obi-Wan quipped. "Are you going to give me my things back?"  
  
"What for?" Anakin asked around a mouthful of toast. "It's not like you need to shave. I don't how you think you're going to grow a beard."  
  
Obi-Wan's mouth twisted in a grin, but he chose not to respond. Instead he asked, "Do we really need all this food?"  
  
"Well, I do," Anakin averred, helping himself to the sausage. As he piled his plate high, he asked, "So are we supposed to be like security at this Conference?"  
  
"Not exactly. We're here to observe."  
  
"Yeah, but what does that mean? We're supposed to observe people talking?"  
  
Obi-Wan sighed. His padawan was being willfully obtuse. "We've been over this before. You know that the development of this cloning technology will have far-reaching consequences for the galaxy. We are here to ensure that all voices are heard in the discussion, to offer our viewpoint if asked, and to see that the treaty is just and fair."  
  
"In other words, we're going to observe people talking," Anakin grinned. "Lucky for us there are some people here we don't mind observing." A thought occurred to him. "I wonder if Jar Jar's going to make a speech?"  
  
/Stars, I hope not,/ Obi-Wan thought with dismay.  
  
*****  
  
As it turned out, Obi-Wan's prayer was answered. The Gungan did not make a speech. Instead, Padme spoke on behalf of both the Gungans and the Naboo. Despite Obi-Wan's lofty view of the role he and Anakin were to play at the conference, Anakin's succinct description proved to be the most accurate. Over one hundred beings had assembled from a variety of organizations and interests to discuss the issue of cloning. They had brought with them cadres of aides and assistants who rushed officiously in and out of the meeting hall bearing messages and whispering to each other. Eventually many of these aides would start writing drafts for the treaty that the Conference was meant to produce, but the first day at least was spent, well, observing people talking.  
  
The Prince opened the conference with a speech outlining the history of cloning and stating briefly what they all hoped to accomplish through the Conference. Anakin had never had the chance to see Bail at work, and he had to admit the Prince was good. He even succeeded in holding Anakin's attention. Most of the time. The two Jedi were seated on a raised platform toward the back of the room where they could keep an eye on everyone present. Anakin studiously noted how the Prince used his voice and gestures to hold people's attention and to gather them back to him when their thoughts wandered. Bail spoke with conviction and authority, and even those among the audience who clearly didn't like the Prince nevertheless respected him. This impressed Anakin, and it occurred to him that he could learn a few tips on commanding an audience from Bail.  
  
When the Prince finished, other dignitaries began making speeches to far less effect. Anakin tried to keep note of what they did wrong so he could make comparisons with Bail's technique, but he quickly grew bored. Instead he contented himself with studying Padme -- Queen Amidala, he corrected himself. She was resplendent in an elaborate gown of red-orange that drew attention to herself. Not that she needed a fiery color to keep Anakin's eyes on her. Her complicated headdress was decorated with gems and precious metals, and she wore stylized makeup. Anakin prefer her without makeup, but he had to admit she cut a stunning figure, and he noted with pride the many admiring and respectful looks she attracted. When it was time for her to make her speech, Anakin had to admit she wasn't as good as the Prince. Her style was too formal for Anakin's tastes, but he hardly cared. He would enjoy listening to her read the ingredients on a box of cereal. He had no idea what she actually  
said, but the sound of her voice transported him to heaven.  
  
The tedious schedule of speeches was broken only by lunch, a formal affair which found the two Jedi seated, to Anakin's dismay, with a flock of scientists and academics. Anakin couldn't even see Padme from where they sat, and since he was so much younger than anyone else, none of the scientists even spoke to him, each trying instead to draw Obi-Wan into backing their respective viewpoints against the others. Anakin couldn't follow all the arguments, especially since Obi-Wan managed to talk without actually saying anything. Instead Anakin contented himself with enjoying their fancy meal. He decided to give himself his own Jedi test by seeing how many desserts he could appropriate before Obi-Wan caught him. Test result: four. Not bad. Anakin gave himself extra credit since one of the desserts had been Obi-Wan's.  
  
Anakin's next test was staying awake through the afternoon speeches after having eaten so much at lunch. He passed this test by identifying the habits of each of the speechgivers and keeping track of them. For example, an Ithorian scientist mispronounced 27 words in his speech. The Bothan delegate used the phrase "of vital importance" seven times, and the phrase "of utmost importance" nine times. And the Senator from Cona picked her nose 17 times. In addition, Anakin counted 32 delegates nodding off to sleep.  
  
At long last the speeches ended and the meeting was adjourned for the day. They had an hour-long break before the formal reception that evening. Anakin begged Obi-Wan to let them lay aside their Jedi tunics in favor of more secular and flattering attire, but Obi-Wan refused. Since they were present in their official capacity as Jedi, they would attend all functions dressed like Jedi.  
  
Anakin was not looking forward to the reception at all. He hated small talk, and he was too young and unimportant for anyone to want to court his interest. He would have preferred to follow Bail around rather than Obi-Wan, because Bail would be able to tell him who everyone was and what interests they represented, but the Prince was far too busy acting the consummate politician to instruct Anakin. He wouldn't dream of attaching himself to Padme. The Queen intimidated him too much. He didn't know how to relate to her in such a formal way. He would have liked to spend the evening in a corner with Jar Jar, but Obi-Wan wouldn't permit it, insisting his padawan needed to learn social skills. So Anakin set up a new battery of tests for himself: memorizing the identities of everyone Obi-Wan talked with, sampling every single one of the finger foods being offered -- without Obi-Wan noticing -- and drinking as many glasses of wine as he could -- again without Obi-Wan catching him.  
  
They circulated throughout the room, Anakin trailing at Obi-Wan's elbow, meeting politicians, scientists, businesspeople and activists, when suddenly Anakin found himself facing someone he recognized: Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself. Anakin hadn't even realized the Chancellor was in attendance.  
  
The Supreme Chancellor nodded briefly to Obi-Wan in curt recognition, but it was to Anakin he addressed himself. With a warm smile, Palpatine said, "It is a distinct pleasure to see you again, Anakin Skywalker."  
  
Amazed that the Chancellor remembered his name, Anakin stammered, "It's an honor to see you, Your - uh, Honor."  
  
Palpatine's smile widened. "You have grown into quite a young man since we last met. And a most formidable pilot."  
  
Dumbfounded, Anakin could only stare at Palpatine, and the Chancellor continued, "I told you before that I would follow your progress. I can never forget the service you rendered Naboo, and I have been eager to know how well you have fared since coming to Coruscant." He hesitated. "And your training with the Jedi is going well?"  
  
"Yes, Your Honor. That is, I hope so."  
  
Palpatine noticed the qualification. "I'm glad to hear it," he said mildly, and if Anakin had not been so awed to be personally addressed by the Supreme Chancellor, he might have noticed that Palpatine's smile, though steady, no longer reached his eyes. "The Jedi are a noble institution. They have done much good...in the past." He moved a step closer to Anakin and lowered his voice. "Let me speak frankly, young Skywalker. We live in desperate times for the Republic. The government is choked with corrupt bureaucrats who will not give up their abused privileges easily. The galaxy needs talented people of strong character. People like you."  
  
Anakin's cheeks colored under the praise but he said nothing.  
  
"I hope you do not think this is mere flattery," Palpatine continued. "I am committed to ending corruption, but I need good people to help me. There are other ways that you may serve the galaxy, aside from the Jedi. Noble as they are, I fear that sometimes they prefer philosophy to action. And action is what is needed today, Skywalker. Firm, decisive action."  
  
Anakin nodded his agreement, not trusting himself to speak. How many times had he not felt the same way?  
  
"You are almost old enough to enroll at the Space Academy," observed Palpatine. "There is no reason why your Jedi studies should conflict with a more secular education. I invite you to consider it. A man of your talents and zeal would be a valuable addition to the Republican Star Fleet."  
  
Enthusiasm finally overcame his awkwardness. "A star pilot!" Anakin breathed. "Thank you, Your Honor!"  
  
With a benevolent smile, Palpatine observed, "I know that the path has not been easy for you, young Skywalker, and I also know how deeply you care for justice, particularly on the issue of slavery on non-Republic worlds." Anakin chilled, and Palpatine went on. "I share your concern. The bureaucrats would say that legally the Republic may not interfere in matters that lie beyond our jurisdiction. But I say injustice is injustice, no matter what the jurisdiction. Beings of true conscience would not let such soulless issues of law interfere with what is right."  
  
Anakin bowed his head, struggling to keep his emotions under control. Palpatine was echoing his own thoughts, giving voice to ideas Anakin had scarcely dared contemplate in his own mind. And the Chancellor was confiding these thoughts in him! At last, someone understood the need for justice as Anakin did!  
  
"But perhaps my proposal does not interest you. I'm sure you are eager to continue your Jedi studies."  
  
"No, Your Honor!" Anakin protested, eyes flashing. "I mean, yes I want to be a Jedi, but I want to do more than that. To be a member of the Star Fleet...."  
  
"I'm glad to hear it. Perhaps we will have more time during this conference to talk about it, and when you are ready to apply to the Space Academy, let me know. I would be happy to give you a personal recommendation."  
  
An aide caught the Supreme Chancellor's attention, and with a nod to Anakin, he moved away.  
  
Anakin did not move, reviewing all that the Chancellor had said and committing it to memory. Obi-Wan, who had moved away so that the Chancellor and Anakin could talk, now returned. "Well," he said, "that was quite an honor, to be singled out by the Supreme Chancellor." Unable to restrain his curiosity, he asked, "What did he say?"  
  
Normally Anakin would have been eager to share all the details with his master, especially since the Chancellor had been so complimentary to him. But for some reason he found he had no desire to divulge the conversation to his master. Not that there had been anything wrong with it, but he wanted to keep it to himself, especially since Palpatine had seemed to be speaking to him in confidence. "We were talking about politics," he offered.  
  
Obi-Wan frowned. Anakin paid even less attention to politics than Obi-Wan did himself, but he decided not to press the point.  
  
The Prince approached them. "Are you two having fun?"  
  
"Loads," Anakin quipped.  
  
"You must be. I saw the Chancellor speaking with you, Anakin. I must say I'm impressed."  
  
Anakin flushed with pride. Maybe he could hob-knob with the famous and powerful just like the Prince. This conference might prove educational after all.  
  
The Prince continued, "The two of you may be enjoying yourselves too much to leave, but I'm exhausted. Too much partying last night, I suppose. I'm not as young as I'd like to think I am." He grinned. "The Queen and Jar Jar are coming up to my room for a drink before turning in for the night. Would you like to join us?"  
  
With a glance at Anakin, Obi-Wan answered, "Of course." But before they could join the others, a protocol droid approached Obi-Wan.  
  
"Jedi Kenobi?" the droid asked. Obi-Wan nodded in acknowledgement. "You have an urgent message from the Jedi Temple. You may pick it up at the front desk."  
  
"Thank you," he said, concerned.  
  
"I hope it's nothing serious," Bail offered.  
  
"We'll see," Obi-Wan replied. "It may be nothing, just some directions about the conference. You go on ahead. We'll join you later if we can." Obi-Wan turned and headed for the front desk, Anakin close on his heels.  
  
"Maybe something came up and they're sending us out on a mission," Anakin suggested, excited at the thought of doing something more interesting than observing talking, but disappointed that he might not get to see more of Padme.  
  
"I doubt that," Obi-Wan contradicted. "There are plenty of others available to go on an urgent mission. It probably has to do with the conference."  
  
"Maybe it's a threat to security," Anakin offered.  
  
"Or maybe we should retrieve the message before we jump to any conclusions," Obi-Wan rebuked.  
  
They arrived at the desk, and Obi-Wan asked for the message, but the clerk didn't know what he was talking about. The clerk went to find someone else who might know, while Obi-Wan waited with mild impatience and Anakin helped himself to a handful of complimentary mints.  
  
Abruptly the room vanished before Anakin, and he reeled, almost blacking out. He saw double doors opening before him, something shoved into his face, surprise, fear, and then nothing.  
  
Slowly the room coalesced around him, and he found himself leaning against Obi-Wan, cradled in his master 's arm. "What is it?" Obi-Wan asked him.  
  
Without knowing how, he knew. "Padme," Anakin whispered.  
  
That was all Obi-Wan needed to hear. He had learned early on to trust his Padawan's strange, but vital connection to the Force. "The message was a decoy to distract us. Are you all right to go?" he asked.  
  
Anakin straightened, concern giving him strength. "Yes."  
  
Without another word, he and Obi-Wan headed straight for the turbolifts. As Anakin punched in Padme's floor, Obi-Wan pulled out his comlink. "Security, this is Jedi Kenobi. We have reason to believe Queen Amidala is in danger. Lock down the building and alert Prince Bail."  
  
The doors opened on Padme's floor, and Obi-Wan headed down the hall toward her suite, but Anakin hesitated, the vision fresh in his mind. "No," he called out. Obi-Wan turned to face him. "The turbolift. It happened in the turbolift."  
  
"Where? What floor?"  
  
Frustrated and anxious, Anakin shook his head.  
  
Obi-Wan hesitated only an instant. "The roof," he instructed as he reentered the turbolift. They rode up to the top floor, then exited and headed up an access stairway that would take them to the roof. Again Obi-Wan activated his comlink. "We're headed to the roof. We believe she may have been abducted from one of the turbolifts. Do not allow anyone to leave the building."  
  
"Yes, sir," the security officer answered. "Sir, we've been unable to reach the Prince."  
  
Obi-Wan froze in mid-step, his stomach turning with fear. Years of Jedi discipline enabled him to continue without thought, despite the turmoil of his emotions. "What about the Gungan ambassador?" he asked faintly.  
  
There was a pause. "I'll check, sir."  
  
Anakin met Obi-Wan's worried gaze. "They got all of them," he said, realization dawning over him.  
  
Together, they raced up the stairs, taking the steps in threes. They burst through the roof access door just in time to see a small freighter fire up its engines. "No!" Anakin shouted, running toward it.  
  
Obi-Wan glanced around and spotted a row of service vehicles parked nearby. "Anakin!" he called out, racing toward the nearest one. He leaped into the passenger seat, Anakin moments after him sliding behind the controls. The vehicle leaped off the roof, not far behind the freighter.  
  
Obi-Wan didn't have to ask Anakin whether their friends were aboard the ship. He trusted his padawan completely to know. Nor did he have to instruct Anakin on what to do. As good a pilot as Obi-Wan was, he knew Anakin was better. As Anakin sped after the freighter, Obi-Wan again activated his comlink, relating the details of the vehicle they were pursuing through Coruscant's traffic lanes.  
  
Slowly Anakin gained on the vehicle but as they drew closer, to their surprise the freighter opened fire on them. A service vehicle like the freighter should not be equipped with a weapons system.  
  
"Fall back!" Obi-Wan cried, as laser bursts pulsed around them. "We have no shields!"  
  
"I can dodge them!" Anakin assured him.  
  
With some misgiving, Obi-Wan let his padawan continue his pursuit. Anakin may have been a good pilot, but it would only take one shot to blast them out of the sky.  
  
Amazingly, Anakin not only successfully dodged the laserfire, he began to gain on them. Encouraged, Obi-Wan instructed, "Try to draw next to them so I can get onto that vehicle." Anakin gave him a curt nod, his face set with determination. Meter by agonizing meter, he gained on the freighter. As they drew closer, Obi-Wan stood in the open cockpit, gathering himself for the jump, ignoring the high speed and the fact that they were 70 stories above ground level. Obi-Wan coiled himself for the leap.  
  
Without warning, the freighter veered straight into their path, guns blazing. In order to avoid a collision, Anakin swerved sharply to the right, knocking Obi-Wan off balance and throwing him out of the speeder. "Obi-Wan!" Anakin screamed, punching the reverse thrusters. As the freighter sped into the night, Anakin glanced fearfully over the passenger side of the speeder. "Master?" he called out, fearing the worst.  
  
To his utter relief, a hand reached up and grabbed the edge of the speeder. A pale and shaken Obi-Wan pulled himself back up into the vehicle. "That was close."  
  
Relieved, Anakin returned to the controls. "I'll catch up with them again."  
  
"No, Anakin," Obi-Wan instructed. "They've gotten too far ahead."  
  
Anger pulsed through the boy. If Obi-Wan had better balance, they wouldn't have fallen behind. "I can do it."  
  
"You may be a good pilot, but this is no racing pod. We will never catch them this way. Best to go back and try to trace the registry of the vehicle."  
  
"But they'll get away!" he protested.  
  
Obi-Wan placed a sympathetic hand on the boy's shoulder as he settled into the passenger seat. "They already have." 


	5. Chapter Five

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Something was shaking her, cruelly dragging her from the haven of sleep. Consciousness slowly stole over her, accompanied by nausea and a bitter taste in her mouth. The shaking only made her feel worse, and she struck out, contacting with something smooth and cartigenous hovering over her head. She opened her eyes to see Jar Jar clutching his muzzle and staring down at her, his eyestalks extended to their fullest length.  
  
"I'm sorry, Jar Jar," Padme apologized as she struggled to sit up.  
  
"My was thinken yousa dead," he explained in a squeak.  
  
"No, I'm not dead," she corrected, only to groan in misery as a fresh wave of nausea surged over her. She might not be dead, but she almost wished she were. She glanced frantically around the room, which was empty of any furniture and sadly lacking any receptacle for her to be sick in. Her stomach refused to be deterred, and groaning, she crawled into a corner and threw up until her body rid itself of the last vestiges of the poison used to sedate them.  
  
Feeling only slightly better, she leaned back against the wall, dragging her sleeve across her mouth.  
  
Worried, Jar Jar watched her. "Yousa oke-day?"  
  
  
"I'll be fine," she replied, but her answer came out as a moan. She looked across the room at Prince Bail, slumped on the floor. It wasn't going to be pretty when he woke up, either. Jar Jar, at least, seemed to have been relatively unaffected by the poison. "Are you all right? How long have you been awake?"  
  
  
"My no know," Jar Jar shrugged. "Mesa wake not so longo time. But you and da Big Boss no waken." His eyestalks swiveled back to the Prince. "Maybe hesa dead, too, eh?"  
  
"No, he'll be all right. Whatever they gassed us with just makes us feel sick." She was beginning to feel a little better. Hopefully the poison would not prove to have lasting effects.  
  
Her alertness returning, she focused her attention on the room. Even without furniture, the room was not completely empty. The floor was littered with crumbled plaster fallen from the walls and ceiling, torn rags, crumpled plastic bottles and other detritus. The walls were gray and stained, riddled with cracks. The yellowish light was provided by a gas lamp hanging from a hook in the ceiling. Padme had seldom ever seen one before. They were clearly not on a spaceship being carried off to who knows where. They were almost certainly still on Coruscant, but Padme had no idea the planet contained any place as rundown as this.  
  
Bail began to stir, dragging himself awake. Padme waited while he, too, emptied his stomach into the corner as she had. When he stopped convulsing, she asked, "How are you feeling?"  
  
He groaned. "I have had hangovers that were worse, but that was a long time ago. It doesn't exactly make me nostalgic for the good old days."  
  
"You'll feel better in a minute," she counseled. As Bail waved a disbelieving hand in her direction, she glanced at Jar Jar. "You know the routine. Start checking in that corner, while I start here."  
  
Jar Jar moved to do her bidding while Bail surveyed her with clouded eyes. "What are you doing?"  
  
She put a finger to her lips, then began inspecting her side of the room. Within minutes she and Jar Jar discovered that the room was free of surveillance devices. It indeed seemed to be nothing more than a rundown building, although the door sported a good sized, mechanical lock. She turned back to the Prince. "No bugs," she announced.  
  
He cocked an eyebrow. "What do you call that?" he asked, pointing at a brown insect half as big as his hand crawling up the wall.  
  
"That's not what I meant."  
  
Bail smiled. "I know. You're quite the professsional, aren't you?"  
  
"I've learned to be prepared."  
  
"Where are we?" Jar Jar asked.  
  
Padme shrugged. "I don't know. I imagine we're somewhere on Coruscant."  
  
"The lower levels, most likely," Bail pronounced, surveying the rundown walls. "Not good."  
  
"Why?" Padme asked, seating herself next to him. "What are the lower levels like?"  
  
"They were abandoned long ago as the city was built up. No one legitimate lives down here, and there are no services. No power, food, water, or transportation. Communication devices don't penetrate this far down. There's nothing here but pollution, criminals, and mutants."  
  
Padme exchanged concerned looks with Jar Jar, but before she could comment, the lock clicked and the door swung open. A human entered and surveyed them. "Good," she pronounced. "You're all awake. Now let's see if you can walk." She raised a blaster in their direction, flicking the muzzle at them. The threesome got to their feet and exited the room, where they were flanked by several more armed guards of various species and led down a dimly lit hall into a larger room.  
  
Padme quickly surveyed their captors. They were a motley bunch, bearing no insignia or uniforms. They looked for the most part relatively ordinary and harmless, though they sported expressions of intensity, even fanaticism. Only two of them, seated in a dark corner, showed any signs of real menace. The pair wore customized armor, combat boots, and weapons belts, and were more heavily armed than their comrades. The face of one was completely hidden underneath a helmet with a narrow, T-shaped eye slit, but her companion wore only a look of cool fierceness.  
  
A blue-skinned Twi'lek who had been seated at a table in the center of the room stood up and approached them. "And how are our honored guests feeling?" she asked, not unpleasantly.  
  
Before Bail could answer, Padme demanded, "Who are you, and what do you want with us?"  
  
The Twi'lek laughed. "Straight to the point! Let me assure you, Your Highness, if you cooperate with us, no harm will come to you."  
  
"You'll forgive me if I'm skeptical," Padme returned.  
  
"Naturally," the Twi'lek smiled. She began to pace back and forth in front of them, strutting regally, as if she were performing before an audience. "We have no secrets here, either about our identity or our purpose in abducting you. I am Reena, and my comrades here comprise the Hammer, a faction of the True Life Movement. We feel that the time has come for more decisive action in order to protect the natural born."  
  
"I have never heard of the Hammer," Prince Bail said.  
  
"Of course not. This is our grand debut."  
  
"What I meant was, I am unfamiliar with your principles," Bail amended, "your position on cloning. If you tell me about your viewpoint, we can perhaps open negotiations."  
  
His offer was greeted with outright laughter around the room. Reena shook her head condescendingly. "We have no interest in negotiating with you, Bail Organa, Prince of Verbosity. All you do is talk, talk, talk. But on the subject of cloning there can be no debate." Her eyes narrowed in determination. "No compromise.  
  
"We kidnapped you to make a point. You will deliver our demands for us, and for your sake, I hope the Senate will listen."  
  
"You are surely aware that the Senate has a policy of not negotiating with terrorists," Bail mildly observed.  
  
"Of course. They always say that, and then they always do. Do you really expect us to believe that they won't negotiate for the safe return of the popular and much-loved Senator of Alderaan? Especially when we show we mean business." She flicked a glance at several of her comrades who closed in on Bail, holding his arms behind his back, as Padme and Jar Jar were surrounded and shoved to the side. Dread filled Padme, but she knew there was nothing she could do. She glanced again at the twosome in the corner. The man looked on with interest, while the helmeted one sat forward in a pose of anticipation.  
  
"Make it look good," Reena was saying, drawing Padme's attention back to Bail. A rather burly-looking Aqualish stepped forward, wearing armored gloves on his thick hands. He delivered a series of sharp blows to Bail's face, bloodying his nose, splitting his lip, and opening a gash above one eye. Padme winced at each blow, struggling not to cry out in protest. Beside her, Jar Jar trembled with fear.  
  
The beating did not last long. "That's enough!" Reena ordered, and the Aqualish fell back. Bail was released, and he fell to his hands and knees, his limbs trembling as blood dripped from his face onto the floor. Aside from the two in the corner, Padme noticed that none of their captors seemed to have enjoyed the abuse. She even thought she could see the Twi'lek's lekku shiver with regret. "Get the camera ready," she instructed, her voice quiet, lacking in her earlier bravado. Several of the others set up the camera as Bail was plucked up off the floor, still gasping, and placed in a chair. Despite his injuries, he was amazingly calm and dignified.  
  
Reena shoved a durasheet into his hand. "You will read this statement," she instructed, "insisting that this conference end at once and demanding that all cloning be outlawed immediately."  
  
Glancing at the sheet, Bail said, "They'll never agree to such demands. Surely you must see that."  
  
"Pray that they do, Your Highness," Reena counseled, "because for every day they don't, we'll be sending them body parts."  
  
Jar Jar whimpered, and Padme reached out to take his hand and squeeze it, seeking to comfort herself as much as him.  
  
The camera was set to record, and Bail complied, reading the Hammer's demands off the sheet. When he finished, they were led without word back to their prison.  
  
For several minutes none of them spoke as they absorbed the reality of their predicament. Bail gingerly wiped the blood from his face, one eye now swollen shut. "Body parts," he mumbled with a levity that amazed Padme. "They might as well start with my teeth. I think they loosened several of them."  
  
"No, no," Jar Jar whimpered. "Dey mutten be doen that."  
  
"I thought you were generally perceived to be sympathetic to the True Life Movement," Padme observed.  
  
"I am," Bail agreed.  
  
"Then why target you?"  
  
Bail shook his head. "I don't know. It doesn't make any sense. They clearly don't know what they're doing, an unknown group making extravagant demands. The Senate will not give in to them."  
  
Padme absorbed this in silence. "They really won't?" she finally asked, leaving unspoken the dire consequences Reena had promised.  
  
Bail met her gaze without flinching. "No."  
  
Again there was a prolonged silence, broken finally when Bail chirped, "They say prosthetic limbs are better than the originals. Then again, with the cloning technology being proposed at this conference, I could be the first person to benefit from it. You needn't worry. Obi-Wan will find us before they disassemble too much of me."  
  
Ignoring his last comment, Padme observed, "There's something else. Did you notice the two in the corner with all the weapons?"  
  
"I was a little distracted," Bail admitted.  
  
"They didn't look at all like the others," Padme observed.  
  
Jar Jar nodded. "Dey looked like deysa ready for a war."  
  
Padme added, "I think there is more than one faction here. And I doubt those two are interested in demands, much less negotiations."  
  
Bail frowned. "What do you think that means?"  
  
"I think it means we can't afford to stay around here waiting for the Jedi to find us."  
  
Alarmed, Bail exclaimed, "You can't possibly be thinking of breaking out of here. Even if we succeeded, we are at ground level. You don't understand the dangers."  
  
"Maybe not, but I'll wager those two are bounty hunters. I'd rather take my chances out there than wait for those bounty hunters to act."  
  
"Bounty hunters? Now, don't jump to conclusions!"  
  
"What else could they be?" Padme demanded. "Bounty hunters or mercenaries, regardless of the specifics, I think they are infiltrators with their own agenda. Didn't you say that there are a lot more interests at stake in the cloning issue than medical concerns? Genetic engineering, breeding slaves, factions who want cloning technology with no benevolent intentions in mind."  
  
"Now you're really stretching it," Bail protested, but he didn't sound like he believed himself.  
  
"Regardless of what Reena said, we will not be able to leave here alive," Padme warned. "The question is, do you want to take your chance and get out with all your limbs, or do you really want them to start hacking you to pieces first?"  
  
Her certainty shocked him into silence, and he gulped hard.  
  
Padme turned to Jar Jar. "Do you still have your vibroblade?"  
  
To Bail's surprise, the Gungan nodded, unhooking his belt buckle and folding it out to make a knife. Meanwhile Padme removed several pieces of what Bail had thought were jewelry and fitted them together to form a tiny blaster. He slowly shook his head as she extracted several pins from her hair to reveal a durasteel stiletto the size of a large sewing needle and a lock-picking device. "Do you always dress for the occasion, Your Majesty?" he inquired in amazement.  
  
Padme crouched by the door inspecting the lock. "After the Trade Federation invaded my planet, I learned to be prepared for anything."  
  
"So you said earlier. I didn't realize how seriously you meant it." He watched her progress on the door with growing agitation. "Are you certain this is a good idea? We don't know if the door is guarded."  
  
"No guards," Jar Jar assured him. "Mesa hear if dey were."  
  
"Gungans have excellent hearing," Padme remarked as she jiggled the pick through a tiny opening in the door handle.  
  
"The door could be rigged with an alarm," Bail continued faintly.  
  
"No. No power, no wires. Nutten. Mesa check," Jar Jar said with simple assurance. His large ears perked up at the tiniest click, signaling that Padme had disengaged the lock.  
  
She turned back to Bail and raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "It's your choice," she offered. "They may not have threatened Jar Jar and me yet, but I don't think they took us by accident. You can come with us and risk death in one piece, or stay here and wait to be dismantled."  
  
"Well, when you put it that way," Bail gave her a weak smile, "I am rather attached to my parts."  
  
Without another word, Padme nodded and opened the door, stepping out into the hall, Jar Jar close behind her. Bail followed, struggling to still his trembling. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears that a blaster fight could ensue in the hall and Bail doubted he would even hear it. He hoped the Gungan's hearing was as good as Padme said it was.  
  
She closed the door behind them and slid the tiny stiletto into the lock, breaking it in an effort to further delay their captors. Then she nodded to Jar Jar, who took the lead, gliding silently down the hall. He paused at each door, each juncture of the corridor, listening intently for any sign of their captors' presence.  
  
As they neared one hallway they could hear voices coming up the corridor. Jar Jar quickly led them back a couple of doors to a closet they had passed before. The three of them barely fit inside, squeezing up against each other in order to shut the door all the way. Bail's head began to pound in earnest, adrenaline making his headache worse. He had been abducted once before, and like Padme and Jar Jar, he had been mentally trained to cope with hostage situations, to remain calm, to seek to establish rapport with his captors, to negotiate with them for his release. But unlike Padme and Jar Jar, he had not been trained to undertake his own rescue. He had always relied on others to keep him safe, and he had no reason to doubt that Obi-Wan would find him. That is, Obi-Wan would have found them if they had remained with their captors. But how was the Jedi to find them when they were running around in Coruscant's treacherous ground level? Any trail they might try to leave would  
lead the bounty hunters, if that was indeed what they were, right to them as well. This escape attempt had to be, without a doubt, the stupidest thing Bail had ever consented to.  
  
But he had no chance to protest, even if he wanted to. After a good length of time, Jar Jar opened the door onto a once again empty corridor and led them on. The next door he led them through opened out into a large hallway. They had evidently left the suite of rooms the Hammer occupied and now entered the main building itself. While there was no artificial light in the hall, the walls were covered with a bioluminescent algae that provided just enough light for them to see by.  
  
Without a word, Jar Jar loped off down the hallway, Padme close behind him, and Bail bringing up the rear. It evidently never occurred to either of his comrades to try to seek a way up. Almost certainly this very building, 30 or so stories up, would be inhabited, but it was equally certain that they could probably never get there. The lowest levels of floors were sealed off in order to keep dangerous beings from ground level, whether sentient or not, from making it up into the populated areas.  
  
They ran silently down the hall until Bail's head began to pound so severely it almost blinded him. "Stop!" he cried through clenched teeth. Leaning against a wall, he clutched desperately at his head. Padme and Jar Jar backtracked to stand next to him.  
  
"Your nose is bleeding again," Padme observed in a mild tone, but her eyes betrayed her concern. Bail pressed his sleeve to his nose, and when he lowered his arm, the cuff was stained with blood.  
  
"I want to put as much distance between them and us as possible before we stop," Padme continued.  
  
Bail grunted. "I told you I'd think of a nickname for you. How's this: `Madam General.' You are certainly qualified."  
  
Padme didn't find it amusing. Ignoring his comment, she asked, "Do you have any advice in terms of which direction we should be heading?"  
  
"I have no idea," he answered, each word clipped with pain. "We could try going up, but we would have to go a very long way before even hoping to run across the populated levels. At the ground level, some areas are populated and others are not. Depending on where we are, we could head for one of the city's plazas. They will also be guarded, but someone might see us and let us through."  
  
"We could steal a speeder," Padme suggested.  
  
"You hotwire vehicles, too? Your talents never end. Still, I wouldn't count on being able to steal a speeder. I doubt we'll even find anything that works. You have no idea how dangerous the ground level is."  
  
Padme set her jaw. "So you've already told us. But I'm not one to give up."  
  
"Wonderful," Bail wheezed. "I'm inspired by your confidence. They do say ignorance breeds peace of mind."  
  
"Look, you chose to come with us," she retorted.  
  
"So I did, and I'm not saying I want to go back. But if you're the General of this party and Jar Jar is the surveillance expert, I get to be the worrier." He searched his sleeve for a clean spot to press to his still-bleeding nose.  
  
"All right," Padme relented. She eyed him. "Are you able to continue?"  
  
He nodded. "But I can't run anymore, my head hurts too much. I don't suppose you have painkillers stashed away in your hairdo or something?"  
  
She gave him a tight-lipped smile and patted him on the shoulder, then nodded to Jar Jar and headed on down the hall.  
  
Bail squeezed his eyes shut and uttered a quick prayer before following them. /Ben, please find us/. He knew that Jedi Knights could sometimes sense people telepathically, even non-Jedi, but he had no idea if Obi-Wan could sense him over so great a distance. And what about Anakin? As precocious as the boy was, was his bond with Padme strong enough to lead him to her?  
  
He fervently hoped so, because without the Jedi, Bail doubted they would make it far, with or without bounty hunters on their trail.  
  
*****  
Eventually they found a way out of the building. It was still daylight outside, and although no direct sunlight penetrated this far down to the planet's surface, there was enough light to temporarily blind them after having been in the dark building for so long. Their eyes adjusted quickly, though, and it was evident that the Hammer had chosen to secret them in one of the unpopulated regions. As the self-appointed worrier, Bail wasn't sure whether this was good news or bad news. While they were unlikely to run into any unfriendlies, it also meant they were less likely to find any help getting out, and it would make their trail easier for the bounty hunters to follow.  
  
The buildings were far too tall for Bail to recognize any landmark, so they had to strike out blindly. They debated whether it was better to stay in the streets and trust Jar Jar's ears to alert them to when they were being followed, or to enter another building for its comparative shelter, but Bail's head still hurt too much for him to really care. Padme was convinced that their captors would not discover them to be missing for a while, so they stuck to the streets for now.  
  
Before long, however, it became apparent they would need to find food, and more importantly, water. The lower level teemed with life, albeit not of an appetizing kind, and since Jar Jar was accustomed to hunting for food on Naboo, they would probably not go hungry. Water, however, was another matter. Certainly liquid accumulated at ground level. Waste water and days old rain, not to mention precipitations of a more questionable nature, ran down the buildings and through the streets in odiferous streams, but it was hardly potable. Another sarcastic inquiry from Bail revealed that neither Padme nor Jar Jar carried decontamination tablets concealed on their person. Finding enough fuel among the detritus on the streets in order to boil water was only slightly less likely than finding a suitable container to boil water in.  
  
As night fell, the dilemma remained unsolved. They sought shelter in another building, and Jar Jar, his eyes better equipped for seeing in the dark, set out to hunt some food. Bail stretched out on the hard ground, grateful to be lying down. His head hurt so badly he had to fight just to keep from retching. Padme settled on the ground not far from him, her knees drawn up under her chin. "How are you doing?" she asked softly.  
  
"I'll live," Bail croaked. "The rest will do me good." He paused, then ventured, "I'm sorry for my attitude earlier. There's no excuse for it."  
  
"It's all right."  
  
"No. The last thing we all need is for us to be fighting amongst ourselves. And it's not that I don't trust you. You certainly are far more prepared for this kind of adventure than I am. I suppose it's a matter of personality. I would rather deal with known dangers than unknown ones."  
  
"Be that as it may, you know best out of the three of us what we can expect down here. What do you think is the best way for us to proceed?"  
  
Bail rolled over onto his side, pressing his burning temple against the cool stone floor. At last he said, "I don't know. If the Force is with us, we'll pass by a landmark I'll recognize. That will give us a direction to aim for. Maybe we will find a speeder. Maybe we'll come across a populated area where someone will figure the reward for our recovery to be more lucrative than the bounty."  
  
"How much of the ground level is populated?"  
  
"No one knows."  
  
Padme sighed heavily. "As our designated worrier, you're doing an excellent job."  
  
*****  
Jar Jar soon returned with an ample supply of small rodents, amphibians and flying mammals, all equally unappetizing. They were unable to find enough fuel for the fire, and what they found appeared to be toxic enough to poison the meat with its fumes, so they were forced to eat their food raw. Jar Jar was accustomed enough to it and fell to his meal with satisfied delight. Padme tried to follow his example, reminding herself that raw meat was considered a delicacy on many planets. She suspected that some of the varieties of fungus that grew everywhere in the damp, dark canyons were edible, but no one was sufficiently hungry yet to risk it.  
  
They agreed that Bail should not take a watch, in the hope that a full night's sleep would render him fit enough in the morning. Padme took first watch, and soon after the others had fallen asleep, she went back into the streets to study them and formulate a plan.  
  
She leaned her head all the way back and looked straight up into the murk above her. The buildings all around her were completely dark, and the lights above were so far away she could not see them. A layer of pollution coated the air about 10 or 20 stories above the ground, visible by day as a brown smog, and at night faintly glowing with the ample light she knew lay above. Less than a kilometer overhead lay civilization and safety. If she could walk up the side of the building, she could reach it in a short stroll. But the vertical distance might as well be lightyears, and on foot, who knew how far they would have to walk to get to freedom?  
  
Coruscant. What an ugly planet. Up above she had been dazzled by the lights and colors, the myriad of beings, the variety of activities going on. The planet seemed glamorous and exciting, a cityscape of infinite possibilities. Yet the vibrant city above lay like a thin skin over a decaying skeleton, visible at ground level. Here the price the planet had paid to support the city became evident in endless valleys of decay and death.  
  
The Naboo prized the natural environment. Their cities and architecture were designed to complement nature, not suppress it. Even the smallest room in the poorest house on Naboo could not be found without several plants or miniature water gardens in small pots, complete with fish and frogs. Naboo might seem backward to residents of the core worlds, and yet having seen Coruscant's underbelly, Padme appreciated her homeworld's aesthetics all the more. How could she even contemplate becoming a Senator and living so much of her future on this vile, unlovely world?  
  
And yet her decision could not be made on the basis of personal preference and taste. In the few days she had been on Coruscant, the need here had become evident. The decay at ground level was infecting the upper levels as well, and it would spread to other worlds, even in the Outer Rim. Naboo could not remain isolated forever. If she chose to stay on her homeworld, there was no guarantee that the cancer spreading from Coruscant would not over-take her own people. Sooner or later, on one planet or another, she would have to take a stand.  
  
Abruptly, Padme became aware of a faint, high-pitched whine. It took a moment for her to recognize it as an engine. She almost shouted out loud for joy at having found someone before she realized that someone was more likely to be an enemy than a friend. She ducked back into the building and crouched behind the door, waiting for the visitor to appear.  
  
  
Several minutes passed before a searchlight shone on the street outside the door. She pulled back farther into the darkness and watched anxiously as the light beam swept back and forth across the street and up onto the sides of the buildings. Eventually, a speeder appeared, moving very slowly, about 30 kph. Too fast for a careful search, but not so fast that they wouldn't notice any obvious sign Padme and the others might have inadvertently left. She hid herself completely behind the door, trying to shield herself if they had scanners. Of course, if they had powerful scanners, they would be able to penetrate the buildings. Organic matter could effectively jam scanners, as could high electronic emissions. The Prince had said communicators didn't work down here, but did he mean only that they couldn't penetrate to the upper levels, or that they didn't work at all? Would scanners even work down at ground level? Either way there was nothing Padme could do about it. She held  
her breath as she heard the speeder pass by her door. To her relief the engine's tone did not change, indicating that they were not slowing their pace or stopping. She counted silently to twenty, then risked poking her head out. The speeder was not far up the street, the passengers silhouetted against their search lights. One was bareheaded, and the other wore a helmet. The bounty hunters.  
  
For a moment, Padme considered stepping out into the street and trying to kill them with her blaster, but she just as quickly dismissed the plan. Her tiny blaster was not very accurate, nor powerful over long distances. Anyway, for now they remained undiscovered. Why risk showing herself to the hunters? Let them remain hidden as long as they could. Silently Padme sank back into the shadows of the building's depths. 


	6. Chapter Six

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
Note: The action really picks up from here. The hawk bats and the attempt to go up the side of the building, as well as much of the stuff about the lower levels of Coruscant, are shamelessly stolen from the otherwise incredibly bad pro-fic, "Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter," a book I heartily do NOT recommend. Also please be aware that my stuff about the Fetts does not go along with what is emerging about the Fetts in Episode 2.  
  
Many thanks to my three reviewers. Y'all make posting this worthwhile - I hope you are still enjoying it!  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Anakin stared out the window of the Council chamber, watching the lines of traffic go by, struggling to rein in his mounting frustration and anger. Only five of the twelve members of the Jedi Council were present, the others, including Master Yoda, off dealing personally with various centers of unrest throughout the galaxy. The remaining Masters were debating the appropriate course of action. Meanwhile the kidnappers' trail grew colder.  
  
"I think we should put someone else on this case," Mace Windu was saying. Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan and saw him clench his jaw. For once his master was as frustrated and impatient as he was. Master Mace continued, "Obi-Wan and Anakin are too personally involved."  
  
"You can't do that!" Obi-Wan blurted out, surprising even Anakin. Mace turned a stern gaze on Obi-Wan. Holding his impatience in check, Obi-Wan said, "What I meant was, there's no need."  
  
"Outbursts like that only confirm my opinion," Mace observed.  
  
Obi-Wan took a steadying breath, fighting to rise above his anxiety and find his calm center. In a more even tone, he said, "With respect, Masters, Anakin and I have been involved with this conference from the beginning. We know all about the True Life Movement."  
  
"But this is a different organization," Ki-Adi-Mundi pointed out.  
  
"Yes, but they split off from the TLM. We know about the TLM's cells, their philosophy, their members --"  
  
Again, Mace interrupted him. "Then you will be able to brief whomever we decide to send. That is no reason for us to send you."  
  
"You are being overly cautious, Mace," Adi Gallia spoke up, to Obi-Wan's relief. He and Qui-Gon had been on a number of missions with Adi and her apprentice Siri, now a Knight herself. "We do not have to be impartial in order to fulfill our duty, and I think the connection Obi-Wan and Anakin have with the Prince and Queen Amidala can help them locate their whereabouts."  
  
Master Mace leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together. "At present that is immaterial, since we still have no idea where to even start looking. In the meantime, we must focus our energies on maintaining calm among the conference attendees." And the Council again degenerated into futile discussion.  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, using Jedi calming techniques to control his impatience. The problem was that they really didn't know where to start looking. The vehicle used by the kidnappers had a false registration, and no one had been able to trace the origin of the holovid of the Prince reading the kidnappers' demands. The image of Bail in that holovid rose up in Obi-Wan's mind. For once he wished the Jedi were not trained in perfect recall because he could remember each and every bruise on the Prince's face. Obi-Wan's fear for Bail lay like a heavy stone in the pit of his stomach, and he had to admit, however reluctantly, that Master Mace might be right to want to send someone less "personally involved." But he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else going to rescue Bail. /I can't lose him, too. I can't go through that again./ That might not be a properly Jedi motive, but Obi-Wan couldn't resist it, and if the Council did decide to send someone else, he and Anakin would go  
on their own.  
  
The comm chimed lightly, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes as Master Mace responded, "Yes?"  
  
"There's someone here to see Obi-Wan."  
  
Mace frowned in Obi-Wan's direction. "Now is not really the time."  
  
"She says she has information about the kidnapping."  
  
Surprised, Mace replied, "Send her up."  
  
A few minutes later the chamber doors opened to admit a padawan aide escorting a young woman who seemed stunned to find herself in a room full of Jedi Knights.  
  
"What do you know about the abduction?" Master Mace asked without ceremony.  
  
The woman only answered his question with a confused expression. "You're Kenobi?" she asked skeptically.  
  
Obi-Wan stepped forward. "I am."  
  
She looked him up and down, appraising him. Finally satisfied, she said, "I'll only talk to you, not to anyone else."  
  
Obi-Wan glanced at Mace, who nodded. "This way." He led her out of the Council chamber and into a nearby conference room where they could talk in private. She eyed Anakin suspiciously. Obi-Wan introduced, "This is my padawan, Anakin Skywalker."  
  
"Pada-who?"  
  
"He is my apprentice," Obi-Wan qualified. "We are a team. If you trust me, you can trust him."  
  
Anakin liked to hear Obi-Wan call them a team. He took a proprietary step closer to his master.  
  
Still the woman said nothing, studying Obi-Wan. At last he prompted, "What did you want to tell me?"  
  
She plopped down into a chair, propping her feet up on the table. Obi-Wan and Anakin both stiffened at what they felt was a lack of proper respect. "I'm a computer engineer," the woman explained. "I work for Frontline Scientific Systems. But more importantly I'm a slicer. That's how I met Bail. I was in grad school studying computer security, and he attended a demonstration I led." Her eyes narrowed. "I'm an old friend of his."  
  
"I see." Obi-Wan knew perfectly well what she meant.  
  
Abruptly she laughed. "That's right. Old friend, ex-lover. All Bail's old friends are ex-lovers." She paused, sizing him up again. "Except you, I guess. You know, you're not very popular among Bail's...old friends."  
  
"You said you had information about the kidnapping," Obi-Wan again prompted, in an even tone that Anakin recognized meant his master was annoyed. He had heard that tone often enough.  
  
"Yeah," the woman agreed almost reluctantly. "When I heard about the kidnapping, I immediately got to work. I looked into the information on the vehicle they used, and the report on the suspects."  
  
"That information has not been released to the public," Obi-Wan noted.  
  
"I know," she replied. "As I said, I'm a slicer. I also read the report you wrote." She gave him a moment to let that news sink in. She could only have accessed that report by slicing into the Temple's own computer system. "I know what the Security Forces know and what they don't. I know what you Jedi know and what you don't. And I know that none of you have any leads." She paused again, with that infuriatingly self-satisfied grin on her face. "But I do."  
  
Obi-Wan was getting really irritated with the cryptic self-importance of this "old friend" of Bail's. And he didn't like the way she kept referring to the Prince by his first name. Obi-Wan tended to be very formal when talking about the Prince to other people. As his demeanor grew milder, Anakin recognized that he was getting close to the point of leaning over and throttling the woman. Anakin was amazed. He had never seen anyone irritate his master so thoroughly. Except himself.  
  
"And what have you found?" Obi-Wan asked, to all appearances as disinterested as if they were discussing the times tables.  
  
She gave him a smug smile. "I found out who outfitted that freighter with weapons. It's true I haven't been able to crack the registry on the vehicle, but I was able to cross reference the alias used to place the order for the work with a list I have of aliases used by the TLM, and I then --"  
  
Obi-Wan cut her short. If there was one thing slicers loved more than slicing, it was telling people about it. "I really don't need to know how you found it. I just need to know what you found. You know who the kidnappers are?"  
  
Somewhat chagrined, she confessed, "Well, I don't exactly know *who* they are, but I do have a pretty good idea *where* they are. I can't be absolutely certain, but when I cross referenced all of the --"  
  
"Please," Obi-Wan interjected. "The short version."  
  
She sighed. Laymen! "I believe their HQ is in quadrant L-42, possibly in the vicinity of the Kathol sector." Irked at having been deprived of the chance to display her genius, she griped, "They weren't kidding when they said you were a hard-ass!"  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes flashed in anger, and for a moment Anakin thought his master really would strangle her. "If you dislike me so much, why did you come to me specifically? Why not go to the Security Forces?"  
  
"Well, my techniques aren't exactly legal, are they? Besides, I don't have to like you. I know you'll do whatever you can to get Bail back safely."  
  
Only slightly appeased, Obi-Wan asked, "Is there anything else you can tell us?"  
  
"No, that's about it." She hesitated. "Only that the way they covered their trail was strange. In some ways it was the tightest security I've ever seen, and yet at other times they made very amateurish mistakes. My guess is it was a novice group that had a lot of very talented and powerful help."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded pensively, then stood to show the woman out. As he held the door open for her, she gave him a cunning look. "One more thing. When you see Bail, tell him to give Cait Nandreeson a call. We really ought to get together again. It's been way too long." With a gratified smile, she turned and exited the room.  
  
*****  
  
The morning had found Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail in surprisingly good spirits. Even Padme's news about the appearance of the bounty hunters during the night only temporarily brought them down. They surmised that if the hunters had already searched the area, they would be less likely to pass by again anytime soon.  
  
They were all stiff from having slept on the ground all night, but other than that everyone felt fine. Bail's headache was gone, although his bruises had blossomed into a rainbow of colors. On his watch, Jar Jar had managed to find a large snake for them to eat for breakfast, and everyone agreed it was a vast improvement over rat.  
  
Despite the threat of the bounty hunters, they decided to travel in the streets again. The buildings were simply too dark and the corridors too labyrinthine for them to even be certain they were traveling in a uniform direction.  
  
As they headed out into the gray morning, Bail observed, "You know, in a way this is kind of exciting. I've never been to the ground level of Coruscant before. It's like exploring a ghost town."  
  
Alarmed, Jar Jar squealed, "There's ghosts here?"  
  
Padme laughed, and Bail explained, "Not real ghosts. Only the ghosts of memory, of the people who once lived here."  
  
Curious, Padme asked, "How long has it been since anyone lived at the ground level?"  
  
Bail shrugged. "I'm not really sure. Hundreds of years, probably. Of course as I said before, there are people who live in parts of the ground level, but they are unregistered."  
  
"Why the peoples stopped liven here?" Jar Jar asked.  
  
"People like to live up high where they can see the sky. I suppose as the city kept growing up, so moved the population."  
  
With a hint of rebuke in her voice, Padme queried, "How can you have lived here as long as you have, and yet you've never visited the ground level? I would think as a Senator you would want to know about the planet."  
  
With a smile, Bail replied, "Well, I think I do know quite a bit about Coruscant. But I've never had any reason to go to the ground level before."  
  
It occurred to Padme that she could take this time to talk with Bail about her own decision to become a Senator. She still wasn't ready to tell Jar Jar, though, so she needed to be circumspect. Hopefully the Prince would pick up that fact. "How did you become a Senator?"  
  
"Dishonestly, of course," Bail quipped. "I slept my way to the appointment."  
  
His evasive answer annoyed her, but not as much as it would have when they had first met. "Seriously," she urged.  
  
"Believe it or not, I earned the appointment."  
  
"But *why* did you become a Senator? Is it part of your duties as Prince?"  
  
"Oh no. Thank heavens I have no duties as a Prince aside from the occasional speech on national holidays."  
  
Confused, Padme admitted, "I don't understand. Then why are you a Prince?"  
  
Bail laughed. "I forgot. You are elected Queen. It's not like that on Alderaan. Many years ago my planet was engulfed in a terrible war. My great-great-great-grand-parents were the ones who brokered peace and helped the people recover. In gratitude Alderaan bestowed royal titles on them, but it's only an honorific. We have no actual power. I'm proud to say that my family has lived up to that legacy." He smiled. "Except for me, of course. There's a black sheep in every family. All my relatives entered respectable professions. My mother is a lawyer, and my father is a University professor. My sisters are all so dignified it's frightening. But I went into politics."  
  
"But what made you choose it?"  
  
With a grin, Bail admitted, "I love to hear myself talk. My father would always take me with him on all his formal appearances. I gave my first speech when I was seven years old. It was a patriotic speech about the proud heritage of Alderaan and how we all must strive to live up to it. I'm sure it was a ridiculous speech, the kind of thing only a seven-year old can get away with. But I have always loved it. The Alderaani have a strong sense of civic responsibility, and we have always been leaders in the Republic. And since I love to talk, I really only had two choices: politics or law. And I wasn't about to intrude on my mother's territory."  
  
"Do you enjoy being a Senator?" Padme asked.  
  
"Yousa meeten lots of peoples, methinks," Jar Jar added.  
  
"Oh yes, the people are fascinating."  
  
"And yousa goin to lotsa worlds, too, eh?"  
  
Bail cocked his head at the Gungan. "Maybe you'd like to be a senator?"  
  
Jar Jar's eyestalks contracted thoughtfully. "Meeten new peoples is fun," he agreed. "But some peoples is bombad."  
  
"That's true enough. Like Senator Kleyvits." Bail made a face. "Every calling has its price. Still, in a way I even enjoy dealing with the 'bombad' ones. I relish the challenge of opposing them and trying to stop whatever nefarious plots they're scheming. But it's more than that. As we argue and debate, there's always the chance that one of us may be converted to a new point of view. After all, whether as enemies or friends, in the end we all have to figure out how to live together."  
  
"We learned that on Naboo," Padme observed. "The Gungans and the Naboo used to hate each other."  
  
"But now wesa good friends," Jar Jar smiled.  
  
"I haven't had a chance to get to know you yet, Jar Jar," Bail apologized. "We humans have all been a little... preoccupied. Tell me about yourself." He nudged Jar Jar in the ribs. "Maybe you have a special someone at home? Or several special someones?"  
  
The question only confused Jar Jar. "What kinda someones?"  
  
Suppressing a smile, Padme clarified, "Gungans don't reach sexual maturity until they're in their thirties."  
  
A look of mock horror crossed Bail's face. "Not until their thirties? That's the most terrible thing I've ever heard!" He paused. "Then again, there are those who would say I haven't reached my sexual maturity yet, either." Padme laughed, and he turned on her. "And at what age do the Naboo reach sexual maturity? Certainly before their thirties, I think."  
  
Padme blushed. "Sometime before their thirties."  
  
"Aha. So do you have any special someones lined up at home?"  
  
"If I did, I certainly wouldn't tell you."  
  
"Smart woman. Still, perhaps your reticence is designed to protect a certain sensitive youth we all know."  
  
"Who?" Jar Jar asked, feeling largely left out of the whole conversation. As Padme had said, he was not old enough to have had romance enter his life yet. He thought all this talk of 'special someones' might refer to the Bosses.  
  
"He means Anakin," Padme explained.  
  
"Oh." Jar Jar certainly thought Anakin was special.  
  
Bail kicked absently at a rock. "Obi-Wan told me the boy at one time had quite a crush on you, but I've never heard him talk about you. Then again, I'm hardly his confidant. He talked about you, though, Jar Jar."  
  
"He did?" the Gungan echoed, pleased to hear that Anakin consider him a 'special someone,' too.  
  
"He's certainly glad to see you both."  
  
"And we're glad to see him," Padme returned.  
  
"Only..." Jar Jar sighed. "My missen Qui-Gon."  
  
Padme nodded sadly, and Bail looked back and forth between the two of them, surprised. "Did you know him so well?"  
  
"He saved my life," Jar Jar enthused.  
  
"And mine," Padme added. "He saved our whole world."  
  
"Jedi Knights have a tendency to do that," Bail observed mildly. A reverent sadness had fallen over his two companions, an emotion he recognized well from encountering it in Obi-Wan and Anakin whenever Qui-Gon was mentioned. Even though he had personally never known Qui-Gon well enough to mourn him, Bail knew he ought to respect their grief, but it annoyed him that while Qui-Gon and Anakin obviously inspired devotion in Padme and Jar Jar, neither of them had said anything about Obi-Wan. Protectively, Bail challenged, "Still, if Qui-Gon saved your world, he had Obi-Wan's help."  
  
"Of course," Padme offered, her thoughts still on Qui-Gon.  
  
It wasn't the response he'd been hoping for. He had noticed Padme's disapproval and Jar Jar's reserve around his friend, and it occurred to Bail that he seldom saw Obi-Wan in the company of anyone but himself and Anakin. What was he like with other people? How did they perceive him? "You don't like Obi-Wan, do you?"  
  
The two hesitated in uncomfortable silence. At last Jar Jar offered, "He was always yellen at me before. Hesa nicer now."  
  
"It's not that we don't like him. It's just that he's rather... stern."  
  
"That's because he has Anakin for an apprentice. That boy is a wild child. Obi-Wan doesn't always know how to handle him."  
  
With a frown, Padme asked, "Is he that bad?"  
  
"He's not bad, he's just lively. The Jedi raise their students from infancy, you know. I've met five-year-olds at the Temple with more self-possession and discipline than people ten times their age. But Anakin grew up apart from the Temple. The Jedi see him as undisciplined, but I keep telling Obi-Wan he's just a typical adolescent boy. Anakin would hate to hear this, but he reminds me very much of me at that age."  
  
"But Obi-Wan isn't stern with you," Padme pointed out.  
  
"No, but I'm not his padawan. Thank heavens! If he'd been one of my teachers, I'd have tried him just as severely. I was excruciatingly obnoxious in my youth." Bail beamed. "But now, everyone likes me!"  
  
Jar Jar smiled at him, but Padme wouldn't give in so easily. "Well, you're not *too* bad," she teased.  
  
"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said grandly, as if she had paid him an enormous complement. "And I'm glad you both like Anakin so much. I understand he doesn't have many friends." This surprised Padme, but she didn't have a chance to ask about it because Bail continued, "But I do hope you'll give Obi-Wan another chance. He really is quite charming."  
  
Padme doubted she would ever describe Obi-Wan that way, but she willingly conceded, "You've had a chance to know him better than we do. But I'm sure he'll grow on us."  
  
Suddenly Jar Jar froze, his floppy ears perking up. "Someone's comen!" he squealed.  
  
"Where? From what direction?" Bail asked.  
  
"It doesn't matter!" Padme's eyes darted frantically, searching for the nearest shelter. "This way!" she called, dashing toward one of the buildings.  
  
But she never made it. From around a corner a speeder appeared, bearing down on them. Any hope they might have had that it would be their Jedi friends was crushed by the sight of the bounty hunters. They fired the speeder's laser cannon in front of the threesome, cutting off their attempted escape as chunks of the sidewalk exploded before them. They shied back, and Padme stepped in front of the other two, her tiny blaster raised.  
  
The speeder hovered before them. The helmeted bounty hunter stood up in the passenger seat, a large rifle cradled easily on her hip. "Do you really think your little gun can harm us, Your Majesty?" she sneered. "Why don't you just put your weapon down?"  
  
Padme's blaster hand trembled, but she did not lower it. There was a remote chance she could shoot the man in the head, but her gun would not penetrate the woman's armor. Her defiance could not possibly save them, but she was not ready to give up yet. She spread her feet in a solid stance and held her blaster with both hands.  
  
The woman stepped casually out of the speeder and moved toward them, Padme tracking her with her blaster. The hunter raised her rifle. "I can shoot it out of your hands, but at such close range I would probably take your hands off with it. Is that what you want?"  
  
From behind her, she felt Bail's hand rest on her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze. Reluctantly, she lowered her arms, pointing the blaster at the ground.  
  
Bail stepped forward to stand next to Padme. "Are you taking us back to the Hammer?" he asked. Talk: that was the best defense he knew. He didn't know what it would accomplish in the end, but he would buy every extra second of life he could get.  
  
"Sorry. I know how fond you are of them. But no." The bounty hunter advanced leisurely toward them, and the three of them moved backwards.  
  
"You're working for someone else, then?" Bail asked. He could hear the fear in his own voice. He wished he sounded more calm, but that was hard to do when he was facing two bounty hunters carrying nasty looking rifles. "Or maybe you have your own interest in us?"  
  
She laughed. Padme didn't like the sound. "Sorry, Organa, I don't have the slightest interest in any of you."  
  
Continuing to backpedal, Bail said, "Too bad, because I'm sure we could come to an agreement that would be greatly to your benefit."  
  
The other bounty hunter exited the vehicle to join his companion, but she continued to do the talking. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? Only it's our policy not to make deals with the quarry. Bad for business, you know. No, we *always* deliver."  
  
The three of them bumped against the wall. They had nowhere else to go. Bail gulped. His fear was really kicking in, which meant he tended to prattle. "I understand that. Matter of principle, and all. Of course, the galaxy is a very large place. There are plenty of other worlds that could use your talents, and we can reward you quite handsomely if you let us go. I dare say we even could help you avoid your employers if --"  
  
The woman growled, turning her rifle on him. "Shut up, Organa, or I'll shut your mouth for you."  
  
But Bail couldn't shut up. "No doubt your employers have their own plans for us."  
  
"No. He just wants you dead. Lucky us, though. He didn't say how you had to die. We just need enough of you left for a DNA test. Of course, it only takes a hair." She stepped forward and reached toward the Prince, plucking a hair from his head. She held it up in front of him. "Done."  
  
Bail's knees turned to water, and he had to lean against the wall to remain standing. "But you don't need the others, do you? You can let them go."  
  
"Nope. He wanted all of you. Now, that's enough talk." She nodded at Padme. "I like your style, Your Majesty. If you behave yourself, I might kill you quickly." Turning to Jar Jar, she said, "I've never dealt with one of your kind before, frog boy. I'll enjoy seeing what kind of stuff you're made of." Then she faced Bail once more. "And you talk way too much. I don't like that. But I do like screams. You'll scream for me, won't you, my pretty little Prince?" She lowered her rifle and grabbed a handful of Bail's shirt.  
  
Without warning, Padme shoved off from the wall and plowed straight into the bounty hunter, hitting her square in the chest with her shoulder and kicking at her rifle hand. "Run!" she shouted as she raised her blaster at the other hunter and squeezed off a series of shots to his head. He ducked clear and raised his rifle, but he couldn't shoot Padme without hitting the other hunter.  
  
"Foolish move, girl!" the bounty hunter snarled, grabbing Padme by the hair and twisting her around, forcing her to her knees. Padme kicked out behind her, connecting with the woman's shin. The bounty hunter fell heavily over her. Padme grabbed for the rifle, but the hunter had not let go of it. They grappled for the gun, rolling on the ground. Suddenly the bounty hunter let go and drove her elbow into Padme's chin. Her head snapped back against the ground, stunning her, and the bounty hunter grabbed the rifle out of her hands, scrambling to her feet.  
  
Padme heard a blast of laser fire. /No!/ she silently wailed, fearing that the others had been shot. Then she heard an explosion, and shards of hot metal zinged past her. To her surprise, the bounty hunter dashed off. Padme rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up to her knees. The hunters' speeder was in flames, and another speeder was bearing down on them, the two bounty hunters running to face it.  
  
Over the sound of laser fire she heard someone calling her name. She turned and saw Bail and Jar Jar crouched behind a corner, beckoning to her. She scrambled to her feet and ran to join them. "What's going on?"  
  
"It's Ani!" Jar Jar cried in jubilation. She peered around the corner. Sure enough it was the two Jedi. Anakin was at the speeder's controls. He whipped the vehicle around to face the two hunters, who were running to flank the speeder. The male hunter dropped to one knee and let loose a volley of shots straight in the speeder's belly as it flew past him. Effortlessly, the two Jedi leaped clear of the disabled vehicle. Obi-Wan somersaulted through the air, landing right on top of the surprised bounty hunter, his saber plunging straight into the man's chest. As the hunter fell back, Obi-Wan freed his weapon and spun to join his padawan.  
  
But Anakin needed no help. He had landed far from the other bounty hunter, then used the momentum of his landing to jump again, dodging the laser blast she fired at him. He landed in front of her, slicing his lightsaber through her rifle, and with the backhand sweep cleaving her head neatly off her body just as Obi-Wan ran up next to him.  
  
"Ani! Ani!" He turned and saw Jar Jar running toward him, the others close behind. The Gungan threw his arms around Anakin. "Yousa saven all of us!" Padme beamed at him, her eyes as bright as Tatooine's twin suns. She hugged him, kissing him on the cheek and pressing her face against his. "I can't believe you found us!" she whispered.  
  
Amazed to have her alive and safe and holding him, Anakin didn't know what to say. Embarrassed, he shrugged himself free of her embrace and moved awkwardly away.  
  
Obi-Wan clasped the Prince tightly to him, then pulled back to inspect his face. "Are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine," Bail assured him, before realizing what the Jedi meant. Touching his face he said, "Ah, yes. My makeover, courtesy of the aptly named Hammer. It's purely cosmetic surgery, I assure you." He scratched lightly at the gash over his eyebrow. "I'm hoping this one will leave a scar. It would add a hint of danger to my mystique, don't you think?"  
  
Obi-Wan smiled tightly, saying nothing, but he did not let go of the Prince's hand. He turned to Padme. "And you, Your Highness? Jar Jar?"  
  
"We're fine, especially now that you two are here."  
  
"How yousa finden us?" Jar Jar wondered.  
  
Obi-Wan glanced self-consciously at the Prince. "We had help from an old friend of yours. She provided us with a general location, but it was the firefight that led us to you."  
  
Anakin busied himself with inspecting their crashed speeder, sick with relief that Padme and the others were all right. He listened anxiously while Padme recounted to Obi-Wan the story of their escape and subsequent flight. Now that they were all reunited, the reality that Padme might very well have died finally penetrated Anakin's consciousness. All the fear and worry he had held back during the search, the worst scenarios he had not permitted himself to imagine, now flooded over him in a torrent, leaving him weak and frightened, trembling so hard he could barely remain standing. Inspecting the speeder wreck gave him a focus to help still his distress.  
  
Obi-Wan had to call to him twice before Anakin even heard him. "What?" he asked.  
  
"I asked whether the speeder is salvageable."  
  
Anakin shook his head.  
  
"Now what will we do?" Padme despaired.  
  
"If we wait here, the Temple will be able to track the speeder and pick us up." Obi-Wan noticed Padme's skeptical look. "What?"  
  
"These people who were attacking us. They weren't part of the Hammer. They were bounty hunters. They were trying to kill us, not capture us."  
  
Obi-Wan knelt to inspect the body of the helmeted one, noticing her weapons and the custom armor she wore. It looked somehow familiar. "This one is a Fett," he realized.  
  
At the announcement, Anakin felt a sinister flush of pride he knew his master would not approve of. The Fetts were a notorious mercenary family, generally viewed as the most dangerous bounty hunters in the galaxy. And he had killed one!  
  
"Now that these bounty hunters have failed, whoever sent them might send others," Padme observed.  
  
Obi-Wan considered, nodding his head slowly. "If that's so, it's not safe to stay here."  
  
"Wait a minute," Bail interjected. "Are you suggesting that we should leave the speeder, when you said the Temple will send help?"  
  
"But it may not be for a while. When we saw the bounty hunters we sent a message back to the Temple, but down here in the lower levels we can't be sure it got through, and I don't think it's a good idea to wait here when more bounty hunters may show up before the Jedi."  
  
Bail's self-control threatened to collapse. He was exhausted, hungry, and thirsty, and he had no desire to go back into the ground level's hidden dangers. With a trembling voice, he pled, "But Obi-Wan, how will we get out of here?"  
  
It was Anakin who answered. "We go up," he said.  
  
"But how?" Bail asked. "The lower levels of the buildings are sealed."  
  
"We go up the outside," Anakin clarified, moving closer to the nearest building and peering up into the fog. "The lowest lanes of traffic are about eighteen or twenty levels up. We use our ascension guns to get up to a ledge within sight of traffic, and we flag someone down."  
  
Jar Jar began to whimper, and Padme felt like joining him. When she had used ascension guns during the Trade Federation's occupation of Naboo, they had only ascended about three or four meters. The distance Anakin was proposing was twenty times that height. "It would take three or four minutes to make the ascent," she calculated. "That's a long time to have to hang on."  
  
"I've done it before," Anakin assured her.  
  
Anxiously, the Prince fretted, "Yes, well, I'm sorry to have to point out to you, Anakin, that not all of us here are Jedi."  
  
Jar Jar flexed his hands, worried. His arms were very powerful, but his hands were not. "Mesa no can hang on."  
  
Obi-Wan mused, "If we make the ascent in short increments, we can do it. Anakin and I can carry you all up." Neither Bail nor Jar Jar appeared convinced. Obi-Wan observed, "It will certainly get us out of here quickly."  
  
"I can do it," Padme announced, projecting more confidence that she felt. "If we take it twenty meters at a time," she set her jaw. "I can make it."  
  
Obi-Wan studied her, trying to gauge her ability. But if she said she could do it, he believed her. "If you and Anakin go up the first section and scout out a secure ledge where we can gather, then Anakin can come back down, and he and I can carry Jar Jar and Bail up." Padme and Anakin looked ready to go, and Obi-Wan turned to the others. "It's up to you whether you want to try it."  
  
"I can carry you, Jar Jar," Anakin assured him. "You won't fall."  
  
Bail's eyes were filled with doubt, but he said, "If you two really think you can carry us, then I'll trust you."  
  
Nodding to Anakin, Obi-Wan unhooked his ascension gun. With Anakin beside him, they aimed their guns and fired up into the fog. The grapples disappeared overhead and the two Jedi monitored the gauge on the guns. At around twenty meters they used the Force to push the grapple hooks into the wall. Giving the cord a few tugs, Obi-Wan handed his gun to Padme. She gulped hard, forcing herself to banish her doubts. "You ready?" Anakin asked. She nodded and squeezed the recoil trigger. The reel pulled her up at a steady pace. She kept her eyes focused on the line above her, not daring to look down. /I'll be fine,/ she chanted like a mantra in her head.  
  
They reached the lowest levels of the thick brown fog, which parted effortlessly before them. Suddenly dark shadows flitted overhead. Startled, Padme tightened her grip on the gun. An eerie screech sounded above her, and one of the shadows flapped down into view, an enormous flying mammal with leathery wings, its talons outstretched.  
  
"Hawk bats!" Anakin yelled. One-handed, he ignited his lightsaber. "Hang on! I'll take care of them." The blade slashed, skewering one of the bats, but more descended from the clouds. The pale blue blade wove a shield of pure energy around Padme, but in his effort to protect the Queen, Anakin left himself exposed. One of the bats struck his shoulder, razor sharp talons slicing through his tunic. He struggled not to lose hold of his saber.  
  
Below them the other three watched, horrified. Obi-Wan grabbed one of the bounty hunter's guns and started picking off the bats, but there were too many of them, and they were too relentless. Helpless, all he could do was watch as his padawan tried to fight them off. But the boy could not keep up. The bats buffeted Padme and tangled themselves in the gun's line. Suddenly she lost her grip and plummeted.  
  
"No!" Jar Jar screamed.  
  
Startled by Padme's fall, Anakin twisted on his line. The bats threw themselves at him with renewed fury, and he swatted blindly at them. His blade tangled with the thread, slicing through it and dropping him as well.  
  
Obi-Wan positioned himself beneath Padme, using the Force to slow her as she fell toward him. He reached out and caught her, the force of her landing almost knocking him to the ground, but he did not drop her. Next to him, Anakin landed in a Force-cushioned blow, his ankle twisting beneath him.  
  
Padme clung to Obi-Wan's neck, her heart beating furiously. It had all happened so fast she barely had time to register that she was falling until Obi-Wan caught her. She began to tremble, gulping for breath.  
  
"You're all right," Obi-Wan soothed. He knelt, lowering her to the ground, but she didn't let go of him. He looked over at Anakin. "Are you okay?"  
  
The boy's face was pale, and he clutched his ankle. "I think I twisted it."  
  
"It's a miracle you didn't break it." Or worse. Obi-Wan berated himself for the catastrophe. He should have never agreed to the plan.  
  
Anakin picked up on his master's thoughts. "It would've worked if it hadn't been for the bats," he said. "We must have hit near one of their rookeries."  
  
Jar Jar knelt beside Padme, gratefully wrapping her up in his lanky arms and extracting her from Obi-Wan's embrace, while Bail looked on, struggling to regain his composure and not particularly succeeding.  
  
"My gun got smashed in the fall," Anakin pointed out. He glanced overhead. The other gun was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"So much for that idea," Obi-Wan concluded. "There's a ground plaza about fifty kilometers from here. It will be a fair walk, but not an impossible one. We'll stay inside the buildings as much as possible."  
  
"Master," Anakin started to protest.  
  
"What?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
Anakin had ventured into the lower levels often. The buildings housed all manner of unfriendliness. In an empty quarter like this, they would be safer on the streets. That is, if they didn't have bounty hunters after them. "Good plan," he amended.  
  
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. It had occurred to him more than once so far that Anakin's illicit adventures could very well qualify him to get them all out of their predicament. Even Obi-Wan could count on only one hand the number of times he had been in the lower levels. Maybe he had been right all long to permit Anakin his excursions.  
  
"Then let's cull anything of use from this wreckage and get started." 


	7. Chapter Seven

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Even though they now had a direction to aim for, their progress was slow. Since they had decided to travel inside buildings as much as possible, they were subject to wrong turns, blocked corridors and disorientation. By the time they decided to camp for the night, they still had no idea how much ground they had actually covered.  
  
They made camp in an interior room where they could not be detected by anyone prowling the streets. The Jedi's speeder had come equipped with two small lamps, so they had light, two bottles with decontamination tablets so they could collect and purify water, and an emergency cache of food rations. The rations would not last long among the five of them, and they did not have a fuel source for cooking the food they hunted down, but at least they were better supplied than before.  
  
Jar Jar, accompanied by Anakin, went to hunt for food while the others scouted for water and secured the room. By the time Jar Jar and Anakin returned with an armload of rats and other small mammals, Anakin had come up with an idea for cooking them. "I'll use my lightsaber," he suggested eagerly. "Barbecue, Jedi style!"  
  
"Now wesa get to try your cooken, Ani!" Jar Jar thrilled, not noticing Obi-Wan's skepticism.  
  
Jar Jar deftly skinned several rats and handed them to Anakin, who lay them in a row on the ground and crouched over them, igniting his lightsaber. As he cautiously lowered the super-heated blade over the meal, he quipped, "Master Mace would freak if he saw this. `A Jedi must always treat his or her lightsaber with respect and honor,'" he imitated the Jedi Master in a stuffy voice.  
  
"On the other hand, I think even Master Mace would appreciate our current circumstances," Obi-Wan observed, despite a twinge of guilt.  
  
Bail watched as the rats began to sizzle under the blade's heat. "I'll take mine medium rare, if you please." One of the rats began to smoke heavily, and spontaneously combusted. "On the other hand, well done will do just fine."  
  
"You could just stick to really rare," Padme offered.  
  
Bail made a face. "No, thank you, I've had quite enough of that for a lifetime."  
  
Anakin raised his blade and surveyed his handiwork. The rats were either scorched or not cooked at all. He turned over the cooked ones and tried again. After a few moments of broiling, Anakin announced, "Dinner is served!"  
  
The rats didn't look or smell at all appetizing, but they would surely be an improvement over eating them raw. As the others hesitantly bit into their servings, Anakin lined up another batch. With practice he actually got to be quite good at roasting them, despite the occasional exploding frog.  
  
When the meal had been reduced to a pile of small bones, Padme noisily licked her fingers and pronounced, "I can honestly say that was the best rat I've ever eaten. Thank you, Ani. You really are a good cook."  
  
Anakin beamed, even when Obi-Wan quipped, "By the time we get out of here you'll be a gourmet of the gutter."  
  
Bail had picked up the rifle they had appropriated from the bounty hunters and was examining it nervously, as if he expected it to turn into a snake and bite him. "I don't know why you're having me carry this thing. It's not as if I know how to use it."  
  
"I could show you," Obi-Wan offered.  
  
Bail's skepticism only deepened. "I don't know. My people tend toward pacifism, you know."  
  
"Of course," Anakin sneered. "You don't want to do any killing yourself, so you let others do it for you."  
  
Everyone tensed. Obi-Wan mildly observed, "It has a stun setting."  
  
Shrugging off Anakin's rancor, Bail agreed, "Well, I suppose I should learn how to use it, although I have a feeling I'll prove to be more of a danger to myself and all of you rather than to anyone who might attack us."  
  
He and Obi-Wan moved out into the hall to practice, followed by Padme and Jar Jar, who also wanted to learn how to use the powerful gun. Anakin leaned in the doorway, skeptical that the Prince could manage the weapon.  
  
Obi-Wan familiarized them with the various parts of the rifle, including the safety latch and the power setting, then showed Bail how to hold it. As he positioned the Prince's arms, Bail archly observed, "Actually, this is kind of sexy in a phallic sort of way."  
  
Padme chuckled, but Anakin and Jar Jar only looked confused.  
  
"But then I shouldn't use such language in front of impressionable young minds."  
  
"It's all right," Obi-Wan said with a wry grin. "He doesn't know what it means."  
  
Indignant, Anakin protested, "I do, too!" Padme laughed even harder, and Anakin swore Bail gave him a patronizing look. As Obi-Wan continued with Bail's lesson, Anakin leaned close to Padme. "What does it mean?"  
  
"Um," Padme blushed furiously. "It...well, it means....manly," she flustered.  
  
Anakin pretended like he understood, but he still didn't get it.  
  
A blinding light flashed in the hall as Bail fired the rifle. The blast ricocheted down the corridor as the Prince dropped the weapon, startled. He held a hand to his cheek. "That hurt!" he exclaimed. "It hit me."  
  
"It has a powerful kickback," Obi-Wan observed, picking the rifle up off the ground.  
  
"Forget this," Bail said, "I don't want to have anything to do with that thing."  
  
"If you want, you can have my blaster," Padme offered, handing the Prince her tiny gun.  
  
He took it and held it up dubiously. "Now I'm really glad Anakin doesn't know what `phallic' means, because if he did, he'd be laughing himself silly."  
  
Obi-Wan and Padme laughed, leaving Jar Jar confused and Anakin fuming. He shot Obi-Wan a glance, half reproachful and half pleading. If they were going to be laughing at him, he wanted to know why.  
  
"I can tell you," Obi-Wan offered, "but believe me, you'll regret it." When he saw Anakin would not be put off, he leaned close and whispered in his ear.  
  
Anakin's face immediately flamed bright red. With a mortified glance at Padme, he fled back into the room.  
  
"I want to try firing it," Padme asked, stepping forward. "It won't be too phallic for me."  
  
Bail gave her a withering look, but Obi-Wan said, "Be that as it may, I don't think we should practice any more. We don't want to attract any more attention."  
  
"Yes, next thing you know all the rats will be wanting to come out and play," Bail quipped, but Padme noticed Obi-Wan's concerned expression.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
He lightly shook his head. "I don't know. I just don't like being in the hall." Trying not to be alarming, he ushered them back into the room and shut the door as securely as he could.  
  
Anakin sat cross-legged on the floor, still smarting from what he perceived had been a joke at his expense. Bail chirped up, "So, what's for dessert?"  
  
"Sewage surprise," Anakin shot back. "I made it especially for you."  
  
"Ah. Too bad I'm still full from that delicious meal. I'll have to pass on it."  
  
As Anakin and the Prince continued their verbal sparring, Jar Jar edged closer to Padme. "Why theresa no peoples down here? Theresa so many peoples up above, but no one lives down here."  
  
Padme shook her head. She had wondered the same thing. "It is strange, isn't it? A trillion people live on this planet, but none of them are at ground level."  
  
"Maybe theysa knowen something we don't," Jar Jar offered, and Padme shuddered. That didn't sound at all promising. In a small voice, Jar Jar sighed, "My missen home."  
  
Fighting back a sudden wave of homesickness, Padme whispered, "Me, too."  
  
"If my gettin back, my never leaven again."  
  
Padme wanted to agree, but something held her back. Her earlier realization of the needs on Coruscant was only further confirmed the more she spent slogging through the bowels of the planet. Her sense of duty and civic responsibility called to her in a way she could not deny. But it was more than that. She watched Bail and Anakin, now concocting fanciful recipes involving bugs, mold, and gravel "to give it texture," and even the stoic Obi-Wan piped up with suggestions for a sauce of toxic runoff. Despite the tension between Anakin and Bail, the three of them shared a camaraderie that Padme envied. On Naboo, Padme had colleagues, even friends, but nothing like this. Partly this was due to her responsibility as Queen, but a large part of it was the Naboo reserve. Her people lived in a very closed society. They did not welcome outsiders, and it took them years to develop intimate friends. Interpersonal relations were governed by elaborate rules of etiquette and formality, but  
now Padme realized how those very rules could be used to keep people at arms' length. Prince Bail's casual familiarity had annoyed her at first because it violated her sense of propriety, but now she realized that the Prince was not rude or insincere. Far from it. He used humor and good will to get around even Anakin's dislike of him. Despite the tension they were friends, and they had all invited Padme and Jar Jar into their intimate circle. She liked all of them. She enjoyed taking part in their banter, and she was even beginning to understand the intricate rhythms of their relationship to each other. Now she and Jar Jar were adding their own rhythm to the symphony, and she did not want to have to sever those ties. On Coruscant, with these three people, she was learning more about herself than she ever could on Naboo.  
  
"Ugh!" the Prince exclaimed. "Here's something new to add to the menu." He brushed something off his pants leg. It was a hairy worm, about the size of Padme's little finger.  
  
"Plump and juicy," Anakin commented, swiping at another worm crawling on Bail's sleeve.  
  
Abruptly Bail shifted the conversation, asking Obi-Wan, "You said it was an old friend of mine who helped you find us. Who was it?"  
  
Obi-Wan busied himself with inventorying their ration bar supply. "She said her name was Cait Nandreeson."  
  
"Cait Nandreeson?" Bail echoed, pleased. "Bless me, I haven't seen her in years. How is she?"  
  
"She seemed to be in perfectly good health," Obi-Wan muttered.  
  
Anakin enjoyed seeing his master so out of sorts. "She wanted you to give a message to the Prince, remember?" he prompted, but Obi-Wan ignored him.  
  
"A message?" Bail asked.  
  
Forging recklessly ahead, Anakin supplied, "She said you should call her sometime."  
  
"Ah," Bail smiled, then caught himself. Clearing his throat, he continued, "It's been years since I've seen her."  
  
But Anakin wasn't ready to let up yet. "She didn't like Obi-Wan," he observed.  
  
Affecting innocence, Bail remarked, "Didn't she? Why ever not?"  
  
"Obi-Wan didn't like her, either."  
  
"Anakin!" Obi-Wan snapped, angry for letting himself be needled so effectively by his padawan.  
  
"Well, you didn't," Anakin pointed out.  
  
Padme didn't know whether to laugh or groan at this display of jealously. Here they all were in danger for their lives, and all Bail, Anakin, and even the lofty Obi-Wan could do was degenerate into cattiness. She rolled her eyes and muttered a disgusted, "Men!"  
  
Bail turned to her, amused. "I beg your pardon? Women are not immune to jealousy, you know."  
  
"Maybe not," she returned, "but we don't behave so childishly about it."  
  
"You don't think so? Well, it so happens that I have a lot of experience in that area, and believe me, women are more than capable of turning into infantile brats."  
  
"I've never behaved like that," Padme huffed.  
  
"I daresay you haven't really been in love yet."  
  
The Prince was right, but Padme didn't particularly care to admit that in front of everyone. "Yes, I have," she protested.  
  
"Then it wasn't a very deep love. There's nothing like a good dose of jealousy to inflame true passion," Bail expounded. "The threat of a rival turns love from a treacly sentiment into a most delicious torture. Love that isn't in agony isn't --"  
  
"Oh, shut up!" Obi-Wan exploded. "No one wants to hear your stupid philosophies!"  
  
The others stared at him in shock, Bail most of all. He had only been teasing Padme, and maybe Obi-Wan, too, a little. Usually Obi-Wan didn't seem to mind the Prince's jibes, but he had never yelled at Bail before. The Prince tried to cover up how deeply Obi-Wan had wounded him. "You really are jealous, aren't you?" he observed with a false note of levity. "I didn't know you cared that much."  
  
Unable to endure the conversation any more, and ashamed of his outburst, Obi-Wan stood and crossed the room to leave. But when he opened the door, hundreds of worms spilled into the room, and he sprang back in alarm. They filled the hall in a relentless march, millions and millions of them. Now that the door was open, they surged into the room. Obi-Wan tried to shut the door, but there were too many of them. They jammed in the doorframe, preventing the door from closing all the way.  
  
The others backed up against the far wall, watching the invaders nervously. "Are they dangerous?" Padme asked, trying to stay calm.  
  
"I don't know," Obi-Wan admitted, picking up the edge of his robe to keep the worms from climbing up.  
  
"You know, I don't really care if they're dangerous or not," the Prince confessed, his voice rising in distress. "I don't fancy myself being overrun by them."  
  
"My neither!" Jar Jar agreed.  
  
"Right. Let's gather our things and get out of here," Obi-Wan ordered.  
  
They hastened to reclaim the lamps and rifles before the worms swamped them. Padme tried to avoid stepping on the worms, but it was impossible. She pranced from foot to foot, trying to keep them from climbing up her legs.  
  
"Which way do we go?" Anakin asked.  
  
"Let's follow their path," Obi-Wan suggested. "We'll outrun them eventually. Let's go!" Taking a deep breath, he plunged out into the river of worms, Anakin close behind. The others hesitated a moment, but realized they had no choice but to follow.  
  
The hall undulated with the flow of worms in a living stream an ankle deep. They flowed up the walls to a meter in height. It was impossible not to step on them. With each stride, Padme set her foot on a squishy, squirming mass, and the soles of her shoes soon became coated with their crushed bodies. They crawled up her legs, and she tried to shake them as she ran, but this only made the already slippery footing more precarious. Ahead of her, Bail slipped and almost went down. He managed to right himself, but he picked up a number of passengers during his moment of hesitation. Jar Jar whined in a high pitched squeal, his eyestalks bulging in fright.  
  
The hall dead-ended into another corridor where the river of worms divided and flowed in each direction. The Jedi hesitated only a fraction of a second before turning and heading down the right branch. Bail and Jar Jar pivoted and followed, but as she made the turn Padme slipped and fell. Her hands and knees crushed the small, squirming bodies, and a ripple of tiny feet flowed up her legs and arms. In a moment she would be swamped. She suppressed a scream, trying desperately to shake them off.  
  
A pair of hands reached under her arms and hauled her to her feet. It was Anakin. He took her hand and pulled her along after him, steadying her.  
  
The river seemed like it would never end. There were more slips and falls, and they had to slow down in order to maintain their footing. Padme could feel the worms crawling into her hair, and she pressed her lips tightly together so they wouldn't get into her mouth. She constantly had to suppress the urge to stop and wipe them off her. At this point, their only hope was to keep running.  
  
Eventually the river dried up to a trickle, and they outstripped the worms, but they didn't stop running. The deluge was right behind them. They ran on and on, eventually spilling out onto the dark street. They stopped, shaking their arms and stamping their feet to rid themselves of the creatures. Padme brushed them all off, but she could still feel their horrible little feet crawling all over her skin. Was she just imagining it?  
  
"They're in my clothes!" she screeched and began tearing off her clothing. The others did the same, ripping off shirts and pants, shaking out the worms. It was too dark in the street to see much of anything, but Padme could hear the frantic grunts and gasps of the others as they shook out their clothes and fought to rid themselves of the hangers-on.  
  
Padme could still feel them crawling all over her, but she found no more of them on her body or her clothes. It was only her imagination. She stood still for a moment, gasping for breath, struggling to regain a sense of control. As her panic slowly faded, her Naboo propriety gained hold of her. Reluctantly, for fear of any worms she had missed, Padme dressed herself again.  
  
For a long time no one said anything. She could hear the others' breathing slowly even out, but their breath was still shaky. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the near total dark, she could just discern the Prince, his face buried in his hands. Jar Jar swayed slightly, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.  
  
"We shouldn't stay out here," Obi-Wan cautioned, his voice low. "We should get back into shelter."  
  
"You call that shelter?" Bail protested. The near panic in his voice echoed in Padme's chest. "I don't want to go back inside that building or any other."  
  
"They were just worms," Anakin observed, but he didn't sound as confident as he wanted to appear.  
  
"I don't care! I can't take this any more. This may all be in a day's work for you, Anakin, but I've been kidnapped, beaten, chased by bounty hunters, forced to eat rats, and now swamped by worms. I'm not exactly used to it."  
  
"Why not? You deal with slime in the Senate all the time," Anakin shot back.  
  
"Stop it, both of you!" Obi-Wan rebuked. He could hear Jar Jar whimpering, and he knew Padme was on the verge of tears. They were all frazzled. Projecting a sense of calm, he said, "Come on, let's all gather together. We'll be all right."  
  
At Obi-Wan's bidding, they settled onto the ground in a tight circle. Bail leaned against Obi-Wan, pressing his face into Obi-Wan's neck. To the Jedi's surprise, Padme took his other arm, laying her head against his shoulder. She took Anakin's hand in hers as he huddled next to her, and Jar Jar managed to embrace both of them in his lanky arms. All four of them leaned close to Obi-Wan, and through the Force he sensed their need for assurance -- even his normally intrepid padawan. Obi-Wan smiled to himself. If the rest of them weren't on the verge of emotional collapse, he knew he would be having to fight back his own panic. As it was, he felt like a mother cat huddling with her brood of kittens. It was a nice feeling, to have the others turn to him for comfort. He wasn't accustomed to playing such a paternal role, but he had to admit he liked it. He found himself wanting to sing them all a lullaby or tell them a bedtime story.  
  
Obi-Wan let a sense of calm flow out from him to embrace the others, and slowly their tension and fear melted away. Before any of them realized it, they were all sound asleep. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Padme woke, her face pressed against something warm and solid. She felt safe, secure, swaddled in a peaceful cocoon. She opened her eyes. It was still dark, but the sky was just beginning to lighten. She lay on the ground, pressed up against Obi-Wan's back. She was sandwiched between the two Jedi, Anakin's head resting on her shoulder, his robe wrapped around them both. Jar Jar's hand reached across Anakin to rest comfortably on her hip. She wanted to remain like that, to rest in the sensual warmth of this embrace, an intimacy that was not frightening but calm and soothing. Typical of their reserve, the Naboo seldom touched one another, yet now Padme found herself sleeping wrapped up with four people, another unprecedented first for her. With a wry smile she cozied up to Obi-Wan's back, amazed to be close enough to another person to hear his heart beat, to feel the rise and fall of his breath. Still asleep, Anakin tightened his arm around her, sending a thrill through her  
body. An almost-forgotten memory rose within her, of when she was a little girl, small enough to fit on her mother's lap. She remembered the weight of her mother's chin on the top of her head, the way her mother's voice rumbled deeply in her chest, tickling Padme's ear. In her whole life she had never felt as secure as when she could fit inside the cradle of her mother's arms. She had never been so physically close to another being until now. She wanted to remain like this forever.  
  
But she was not a little girl any more, and as the sky grew brighter, she realized it was not safe for them to remain in the open street like this. Reluctantly she shifted, extricating herself from Anakin's embrace. Her movement rippled out to the others, and they slowly came awake, yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes. The Prince stared at her, half-awake, then said, "Your Highness, I do believe your tunic is on inside out."  
  
She looked down and realized he was right. So much for dressing in the dark. He gave her a sly smile. Abruptly, she reached out and tweaked one of his curls. "Hold on. You've got a worm in your hair." He jumped, and she winked at him.  
  
"Very funny," he smiled.  
  
"Anyone up for breakfast?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
"Aren't we due to run into an abandoned pastry factory?" Bail asked. "Drowning in a vat of sweet cream sounds just about right."  
  
"We should be so lucky," Anakin countered.  
  
"In the mean time, how do ration bars sound?" Obi-Wan offered.  
  
"Terrible," Padme replied. "But they beat rats."  
  
Obi-Wan doled out one bar each, which they quickly devoured.  
  
Bail stood and stretched. "Another day, another unspeakable terror to face. Shall we get to it?"  
  
"There's no time like the present," Padme agreed.  
  
They set off, heading back into one of the buildings, their spirits once more renewed. It amazed Padme how they could keep bouncing back after so many trials. Their friendship sustained them through the hard times, and each challenge only made their bond stronger. She had never felt so alive, so intimately connected to other people. She'd never even felt this way about her own family.  
  
They walked along at an easy pace, sometimes talking, sometimes in silence. In the darkness it was hard to see anyone's face, but by now Padme had learned the subtle nuances of each of her friends' voices, the meaning of their tones, the way their emotions echoed off each other.  
  
After several hours of walking, they came out into a large open area. The ceiling rose several stories high above them, with balconies opening out onto a central plaza. It must have once been a shopping area. A bank of large transparisteel windows on an upper story admitted light from outside, illuminating the interior with a faint gloom.  
  
"I wonder if the food court is open," Bail speculated. "I've had my fill of scorched rat."  
  
Padme returned, "Forget that. I want to find a bar and have a nice, stiff drink."  
  
"My just wanten a bath!" Jar Jar added.  
  
As the three of them indulged their fantasies, Anakin noticed Obi-Wan's concerned expression as he surveyed the open plaza. "I have a bad feeling about this," Obi-Wan warned softly. "Something's not right."  
  
Anakin turned his attention outward into the gloom. Abruptly, danger flared into his consciousness. "Back!" he screamed. "Back into the hallway!" Obi-Wan ignited his saber, but the others were too startled to react immediately.  
  
Speeder bike engines roared to life, flooding the plaza with a sinister growl. From the balcony's second level, three bikes leaped over the railing and raced toward them. One of them fired a volley overhead, too high for Obi-Wan to block with his saber, but the bounty hunter had not been aiming for them. The lasers touched off an explosion behind them, collapsing the balcony over the way they had come in, cutting off their escape.  
  
"Head toward one of the shops," Obi-Wan ordered, shoving at Jar Jar. "It will provide shelter." The three broke into a run while Anakin and Obi-Wan covered for them. They ducked into an open doorway, and Padme crouched inside to watch and assess the situation.  
  
Anakin and Obi-Wan stood back to back as the three bikes buzzed and spun around them. The bounty hunters bombarded them with laser fire from their turboblasters. Fortunately, the weapons were too large for the hunters to fire accurately and pilot the bikes at the same time. The Jedi could defend themselves easily enough, catching the blaster bolts on their lightsabers, but they couldn't move or gain the upper hand.  
  
"They need our help!" Padme shouted, unshouldering her rifle.  
  
"You saw what happened when I tried to shoot that thing," Bail protested. "I'll end up shooting them by mistake."  
  
Padme didn't answer, lining up a shot in her sights. She squeezed the trigger, and the powerful weapon discharged, kicking her back hard enough to knock her to the floor. Her shot missed the bounty hunters completely. Dismayed at her inability to effectively handle the rifle, she suggested, "All right, then. We'll aim high and just hope to make it harder for the bounty hunters to concentrate."  
  
The three of them opened fire, as chaotic as they were ineffective. But their attack did seem to disorient the hunters. One of them, an enormous, muscled female of a humanoid species Padme did not recognize, nudged her bike around and sped straight toward them.  
  
"Disa muy bombad!" Jar Jar cried out.  
  
Spying their peril, Anakin leaped up just as the bike rushed passed him. He slashed out, slicing through the bike's steering vanes. The vehicle sped out of control, but its rider leaped off the bike with astonishing agility, landing safely on the balcony overhead while her bike ploughed into the ground in a mass of screaming metal. Unfazed, she raised her blaster and opened fire on the three in the doorway.  
  
Furious, Anakin jumped up onto the balcony after her, determined to take her out. He heard Obi-Wan cry out to him, but he ignored him, turning on the hunter. She only sneered, firing at him. At point-blank range, the bolts met his blade with the force of a cannon, and he had to backpedal in order to keep from being knocked off his feet. He concentrated on trying to redirect the bolts back at her, blocking out all other thought.  
  
Down on the ground, Padme watched him anxiously, but Bail understood better what Anakin had done. "That stupid boy!" he cried. "He's left Obi-Wan exposed!"  
  
Padme redirected her gaze and saw that the other two hunters realized they could now trap Obi-Wan between them. They swooped around him, then simultaneously rushed him from opposite directions, blasters blazing.  
  
In a haze of green energy, Obi-Wan's blade caught all the bolts, but the firing only intensified as the bikes sped toward him. He couldn't defend himself against both at once.  
  
Up on the balcony, the bounty hunter glanced quickly down at Obi-Wan, and Anakin followed her gaze. Obi-Wan vaulted high, twisting out of the way and slashing his lightsaber through one of the bike's steering vanes, sending bike and rider smashing into a wall, but the other bike was too fast. It slammed into Obi-Wan's chest, throwing him across the plaza.  
  
"Master!" Anakin screamed. The bounty hunter turned and sneered at him in triumph. With an influx of rage, Anakin gathered the Force around him and lashed out at her, tumbling her off the balcony. She hit the ground with a liquid thud, her skull splitting open. Anakin leaped down to the ground, wanting to rush to his master's aid, but he was too far away to get there in time.  
  
From the doorway, Bail whispered brokenly, "Obi-Wan."  
  
"Look!" Padme shouted. "He's getting up. He's not hurt."  
  
Sure enough, Obi-Wan had come to his feet and stood facing the last bounty hunter as he brought his speeder bike around and raced once more for Obi-Wan. The hunter didn't even fire, instead opening the throttle all the way in order to mow the Jedi down. Obi-Wan held his ground as the bike sped toward him. At the last instant, he leaped up, somersaulting over the bounty hunter's head, and thrust his saber into the bike's engine. The power cell exploded, destroying both bike and rider.  
  
Obi-Wan landed on his feet, but his legs crumpled beneath him, and he fell heavily to his knees.  
  
"Ben!" Bail called out, sprinting toward the Jedi, Padme and Jar Jar close on his heels. He bit back a cry when he saw the blood soaking the front of Obi-Wan's tunic. The sight snapped the Prince into a practical mode. "Get his robe off," he instructed. Padme and Jar Jar rushed to comply, while Anakin stood nearby in disbelieving shock.  
  
They pulled off his robe while Bail carefully removed Obi-Wan's belt and opened his tunic. He lay Obi-Wan down on the ground as gently as possible, then inspected the wound. A large gash sliced across the Jedi's chest.  
  
"I think I broke some ribs," Obi-Wan said, his breath coming in short, painful gasps.  
  
Glancing at Padme, Bail instructed, "Tear his robe into strips. We'll need them for bandages." He used Obi-Wan's outer tunic to wipe up the blood. "I don't like the way you're breathing," he observed. "Do you think you punctured a lung?" Obi-Wan shook his head, and Bail asked further, "Can you tell how badly you're injured? Do you think you ruptured any internal organs?"  
  
Padme paled, and Obi-Wan said, "I don't know."  
  
As carefully as possible, they eased him back up to a sitting position in order to tie the bandages around his chest. His face contorted in pain, but he did not cry out. Bail wrapped the strips of robe around him, using a piece of his tunic as a compress, and tied the bandage snugly. They laid him back down, and Bail at last looked up at Anakin. "Cover him with your robe. We need to keep him warm lest he go into shock."  
  
Numbly, Anakin removed his robe and knelt next to Obi-Wan, gently settling his robe around him.  
  
For several minutes no one said anything, lost in a daze of fear and worry. At last, Padme spoke up, her brow furrowed in concentration. "There was something wrong about all this. It's as if they were waiting here for us, as if they set up a trap."  
  
Bail shook his head. "But how could they be tracking us? Scanners don't work well down here."  
  
Anakin stretched out with the Force, connecting to something that had been nagging at him during the battle, and even earlier throughout their flight, something that had only tickled the edge of his consciousness. He had ignored it before, but now he opened himself to it fully. His stomach churned at what he discovered. "They're tracking us through the Force."  
  
"What?" Padme and Bail chorused in disbelief.  
  
Obi-Wan studied his padawan, wanting to believe the boy was mistaken, but knowing that Anakin's instincts invariably proved true. "You're certain?" he asked softly. Anakin only nodded.  
  
"But what does that mean?" Bail fretted. "Tracking us through the Force? Who could do that? You don't mean that Sith Lord you told me about. That couldn't possibly be...." He moaned, burying his face in his hands. "Oh, I don't like this at all."  
  
Panicked, Jar Jar stood up, wringing his hands and pacing nervously. "Oh, why mesa here? Every time my meeten Obi Kenobi, something bombad is happening."  
  
Enraged, Anakin launched himself at the Gungan, shoving him in the chest. "How dare you!" he fumed. "Obi-Wan saved your life! He's the one who's injured, not you!"  
  
Bail seized Anakin's arm, trying to restrain him from pummeling Jar Jar. "Calm down," he began.  
  
"Get your hands off me!" Anakin screamed. He lashed out at the Prince, grabbing him by the shirt and throwing him against the wall. "It's your fault we're here!" He unleashed all his grief and horror on Bail, trying to hide from himself his own guilt at having been the cause of Obi-Wan's injury. It had to be Bail's fault, not his. It couldn't be his. He slammed the Prince repeatedly against the wall. "It's always you!" he raged. "You think you can boss him around, but he's not your bodyguard!" He felt Padme and Jar Jar trying to pull him off, but he was stronger than them. He could kill Bail, and the Prince knew it. He bashed him against the wall. "He's not your slave! He's not your slave!" All of his most horrible memories flooded over him: the image of Qui-Gon's lifeless body, the first time he'd realized what it meant that he was a slave, all the humiliation he had known on Tatooine, and worst of all, the expression on his mother's face when he'd left her behind. Bail  
Organa would never have to see that look on his mother's face. He had every privilege the universe could give him. He could throw people's lives away because they were worth nothing to him. He could always buy new friends. But Anakin would not be bought, and he would not let his only friend be destroyed by the Prince's selfishness.  
  
Dimly, something called to him. A voice penetrated through his grief, its warm light sending the shadows fleeing. It was Obi-Wan. His master was calling him. Anakin's grip loosened, and he felt Padme and Jar Jar pulling him backward. He turned and saw Obi-Wan, propped up on one elbow. Despite the pain he must be in, Obi-Wan's eyes were calm and steady. "Anakin," he called softly. "Come here."  
  
Anakin didn't even realize his feet had carried him to his master until he was kneeling by Obi-Wan's side. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," he whispered, silently begging, /Please don't die./ "It's my fault you got hurt, mine alone."  
  
"Anakin," Obi-Wan soothed, taking the boy's hand. "I've lost track of how many times I put Qui-Gon in jeopardy." /Including the last time,/ the familiar thought rose to taunt him yet again. He knew perfectly well the guilt Anakin felt. "The point isn't that we make mistakes, even foolish ones. The point is that we learn from them." He could almost hear Qui-Gon echoing those same words to him.  
  
"I'm sorry," Anakin repeated, fighting back his despair.  
  
"I know," Obi-Wan assured him. "But you have another chance to prove yourself. You know the way out of here. You have to be calm and strong in order to protect the others. Anakin," he squeezed the boy's hand, his voice low but intense. "You have to get me to a hospital." He searched his padawan's face. "Will you do that?"  
  
Anakin nodded. "Yes, Master."  
  
"Good. Now, you have to apologize to Jar Jar and to Bail. Do you understand?"  
  
Normally the thought of apologizing to anyone, especially to the Prince, would be completely unbearable, but right now Anakin would do anything for Obi-Wan. "Yes, Master," he said. "And I will get you out, Obi-Wan. You'll be all right. I swear it."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled at him. "I know you will, Anakin." 


	9. Chapter Nine

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
Mace Windu deactivated the holovid and turned his dark eyes on Adi Gallia. "So what do you think?" he queried, his tone even and neutral.  
  
He sat in a conference room with Master Adi and her padawan. Adi did not answer at once, reviewing the holovid in her mind. The Twi'lek, identifying herself as the Hammer's leader, had made the demands herself. There was no sign of the captives, and her threats had changed. None of the body parts promised in the first holovid had been sent, and now the threat was dropped altogether. The conclusion, therefore, was obvious. "She's bluffing. They don't have them any more."  
  
Mace nodded slowly. "So Obi-Wan and Anakin were successful."  
  
But that conclusion was not so obvious. "I don't think so," Adi said. "If they had been, why would the Hammer pretend like they still had them? And why wouldn't we have heard from Obi-Wan by now? No, I don't think they ever succeeded in locating the terrorists."  
  
Mace considered her words carefully. "Which leads us back to the question of what happened to Senator Organa and the others." He leaned back in his chair and ticked the options off on his long fingers. "They may have died in custody, whether accidentally or on purpose. They may have been rescued by someone other than Obi-Wan and Anakin. Or they may have escaped."  
  
Bo-Neda, Adi Gallia's 16-year-old padawan cleared her throat self-consciously. "Or someone else may have abducted them from the Hammer."  
  
Mace raised a skeptical eyebrow, but Adi silenced any objection he might have raised. Adi's perceptiveness was legendary, and her padawan shared this trait. "It is definitely a possibility. We have certainly learned that there are a number of powerful, secret interests at work here. It was one thing when clones could only be developed at a normal rate of growth, but now that the Gungan technology makes it possible to grow human clones in less than five years, it changes everything. The technology will prove far too profitable for anyone who wants to grow their own laborers or soldiers, and they will not want their access to it to be limited by any laws proposed by the conference. The Hammer is probably just a front, a distraction to divert our attention from the real plot to subvert the conference."  
  
Mace considered what she had said. The past few years had seen an alarming rise in criminal and other extra-governmental organizations, both in numbers and in power. Every month more and more Jedi were dispersed on missions to deal with the increased activity, and they returned with disturbing reports: of governments held hostage by crimelords, of trade lanes terrorized by pirates, of distrust in the forces of law and order who seemed increasingly unable to curtail the power of brigands and rogue autocrats. Sometimes isolated incidents proved on closer examination to be connected, while other seemingly related events proved to have no traceable link. The galaxy seemed to be enmeshed in plots, but was there only one force behind it all or a coalition of forces? Nothing could be taken for granted any more, but neither could the Jedi discern any pattern to explain the chaos.  
  
Mace sighed in frustration. "It is hard to know what to do when we don't know what we're up against. If they escaped, has Obi-Wan found them yet? If they were abducted, who took them and why? And what happened to Obi-Wan and Anakin that they have not contacted us?"  
  
"Well, we know that it is next to impossible to send communications transmissions from the lower levels. If they were all right and their speeder were functional, they would have come up and contacted us. We must conclude at the very least that they have  
  
no means of transportation." Adi Gallia set her jaw, and Mace recognized it meant she had made a decision. He also knew that once she had made up her mind, no one could ever dissuade her. "Bo-Neda and I will go looking for them," she announced.  
  
Mace had to at least try. "I don't like to send anyone into a situation we know so little about."  
  
"But the alternative is to do nothing, and that is completely unacceptable. At the very least we need to find out what happened to Obi-Wan and Anakin."  
  
Mace acquiesced. "Very well. But the two of you shouldn't go alone."  
  
Adi smiled. She knew Mace wanted to go himself. With all the unrest in the galaxy, he had increasingly taken on an administrative role with the Council, coordinating the numerous missions that everyone else was sent on. He hadn't been in the field in years, and she knew he longed for action. But this mission was not worth sending two members of the Council on. "I agree. That's why I'm planning on asking Bant to accompany us."  
  
"Bant?" Mace echoed in surprise. "But her skills are in negotiation. I doubt that particular talent will be needed here."  
  
"Yes, but she is also a discerning investigator, and she is good friends with Obi-Wan. Her connection to him may help us track him down." She could tell he was disappointed but he put it aside. She continued, "We will contact the Temple every hour, so you will know if something happens to us."  
  
"And one other thing," Mace requested, his eyes betraying his concern. "Wear locators. If you vanish, too, I want us to have at least a chance of tracking you down." It was his way of saying, Be careful.  
  
Adi nodded grimly. "We will take no foolish chances." She looked at her Padawan. "Come, Bo-neda. Let's get ready."  
  
*****  
  
At first Obi-Wan had tried to walk on his own, leaning on Bail's arm for support, but it soon became apparent that his injuries were too severe. Before long both Bail and Jar Jar had to support him, their arms hooked under his, and they had to carry more and more of his weight. They rested frequently, and while the rests helped Obi-Wan, he also began to tire more quickly. Anakin wanted to help Obi-Wan himself, but the others argued that he needed to keep his hands free in case they encountered any danger. Padme occasionally took the place of Bail or Jar Jar in order to give them a break, but she was not strong enough to carry Obi-Wan for long. They did not make much progress during the rest of the day. They made camp early, falling asleep as soon as they had finished eating.  
  
The next morning found Obi-Wan greatly weakened. His bandage was soaked through with blood, and he burned with fever, indicating that infection had set in. He could no longer walk on his own. No one wanted to give voice to their fears, so they set off in silence, Bail and Jar Jar again supporting Obi-Wan, and Padme and Anakin keeping a tense look-out for any danger. As they trudged on at a mercilessly slow pace, Obi-Wan made no sound, though the corners of his mouth grew caked with dried blood from where he had bitten his lip. Each time they clambered over mounds of broken rock or slogged through a puddle of dank sludge, Bail heard Obi-Wan's low groans. His muscles protested at having to carry Obi-Wan a second day, and Bail had no idea how he could keep this up for as long as it would take them to finally get out of the underworld's morass. He knew the Gungan was exhausted as well, although Jar Jar never complained. Bail had seen the raw skin on Jar Jar's shoulders and arms.  
Both the constant grime and heat, as well as Obi-Wan's weight, were ravaging the Gungan's amphibious skin.  
  
Bail stumbled, his foot twisting on a loose rock, and Obi-Wan bit back a cry as he fell sharply against Bail's side. His eyes were screwed shut, and sweat flowed down his face and dripped off his chin, soaking his stained tunic. They were all covered with filth, and Bail worried about the fact that they could not keep Obi-Wan's wound clean.  
  
He regained his footing, but when he put his weight on his ankle it twinged in protest. Wearily, he called out to Padme and Anakin, "Stop. We can't go on any more."  
  
Padme turned back, glancing at her chronometer. "It's only mid-day. We haven't gone very far."  
  
"I know," Bail gasped for breath, "but I'm exhausted, and Obi-Wan is in too much pain." He and Jar Jar lowered themselves to their knees, easing Obi-Wan to the ground, as Anakin stood over them, deep lines of worry etched into his face. Carefully Bail began to change Obi-Wan's makeshift bandage. Anakin gave his master some water, tenderly cradling his head as he held the bottle to his lips. When Obi-Wan finished, Anakin handed the water to Jar Jar, who needed it more than the rest of them. Padme drank only after everyone else had their turn, eagerly swallowing the half cup that remained.  
  
She glanced at the weary threesome gathered around Obi-Wan, wincing when she saw the blood oozing from Jar Jar's flayed skin. She hated forcing him to such an arduous task, but she had no choice. None of them did. "How long do you need to rest?"  
  
Bail didn't answer, merely kneaded his aching shoulder while staring at Obi-Wan. Padme sighed in resignation. They were never going to make it out of there at this pace. "All right. We'll camp here. Let's scout out, same detail as before. Bail and me on water, Anakin and Jar Jar hunting for our dinner."  
  
As tired as Jar Jar and Bail were, they were grateful for the opportunity to get up and move around without having to carry Obi-Wan. They dispersed along with Anakin. Padme found that she didn't have to go far for water. There was a leaking pipe nearby with relatively clean water, and she even found another salvageable bottle. She returned before the others did and approached Obi-Wan for the sterilization tablets in his belt pouch. She thought he was sleeping, but when she unsnapped the pouch, his eyes opened. The look in them troubled her. She knew he only revealed a fraction of the pain he must actually be feeling.  
  
He watched her as she dropped the tablets into the bottles. "Padme," he said, his voice almost a whisper.  
  
"The water will be ready in a couple of minutes," she told him. "Are you hungry?"  
  
He shook his head slightly. "Listen. You're going to have to leave me behind."  
  
Padme suppressed a shudder. She had just been thinking the same thing, but it sounded even worse coming from him than from her own mind.  
  
"I can't possibly keep up," Obi-Wan continued. "And Bail and Jar Jar can't keep carrying me."  
  
"If we build a litter --"  
  
"No. It will still slow you down. Anyway, the move is killing me."  
  
The resignation in his voice chilled her. She didn't want to believe he could die, but she had not wanted to believe it of Qui-Gon, either, and this was no time for wishful thinking. She searched his face in silence, then asked, "Tell me truthfully. How bad are your injuries?"  
  
"Not so bad. If I can get to medical care, I'll be fine. I might last as long as a week before that, but...." He trailed off, not certain how bad the internal bleeding was. Obi-Wan had never been a good healer. He couldn't put himself into a healing trance, and Anakin wasn't skilled enough to do it for him. A week was probably stretching it.  
  
Padme's mind worked furiously, playing out various scenarios. "We can leave someone with you," she suggested, but who?  
  
"No, there's no need."  
  
"But if the bounty hunters are tracing us through the Force...." Or was he intending to sacrifice himself as a decoy so they could get away?  
  
"I can keep the Force drawn close around me. They won't find me."  
  
Padme hated to leave him alone, but the only one who would be much of a defense would be Anakin, and they needed him in order to get out. At last she nodded her head in concession.  
  
When he saw that she wasn't going to argue with him, Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly in relief. She was a true leader, capable of making difficult decisions and moving on. He knew she could get the others out of the underworld. Reassured, he opened his eyes again. "It will be hard for Bail and Anakin, but they'll follow you. They both respect your judgment. I know you'll get them out of here, and you'll make it back to me."  
  
Padme wished she shared his confidence. Had the Force given him a vision, or was he merely expressing his hopes? "We'll leave you with plenty of food and water so you'll be fine until we get back." An image rushed upon her of Obi-Wan, alone and slowly bleeding to death. She hadn't realized how much she had warmed up to him, but now, faced with the prospect of losing him forever, Padme realized how much she had come to rely on his quiet strength, his unwavering loyalty to duty. She couldn't bear the thought that they might not make it back to him in time. What would happen to Anakin then? A wave of tender worry overcame her, and she relieved it by tending to Obi-Wan now, gently washing the blood off his lips and wiping his brow with the cuff of her sleeve.  
  
Obi-Wan suppressed a smile as she ministered to him. Even Padme was fussing over him now! He watched her as she did what she could to make him more comfortable. At last he said, "I have a confession to make." Padme stopped in surprise, not sure she wanted to be his confessor. Obi-Wan smiled. "I woefully underestimated you when we first met. I thought you were young and naive."  
  
Padme's mouth twisted into an ironic grin at this unwitting confirmation of what she had once thought of him. "Well, I *was* young and naive."  
  
"Maybe. But you were also wise. You have a clarity of vision, a purity of heart that some of us who tend to be more prejudiced could learn from. It's good that Anakin admires you so. He could learn lessons from you that I can never teach him."  
  
Now that she actually had his praise, she grew embarrassed by her criticism of him. "You're a good teacher," she assured him.  
  
"In some things." His brow furrowed as he looked away from her, and Padme realized his confidence was not as overweening as she had thought. He looked back to her. "I hope you will always be a friend to Anakin. He needs friends."  
  
Padme hesitated. "You sound like you're bequeathing him to me."  
  
Obi-Wan grinned broadly at that. "Don't worry," he assured her. "This is no dying request. I fully intend to go on being his master and to teach him all I can. I only meant...." He hesitated awkwardly. "Well, I know he's not your responsibility."  
  
"Of course he's my responsibility," she protested, "as are you. Anakin has a special place in my heart. He is a special boy."  
  
"He is." Again, that dark look of doubt shadowed his features. Then he smiled again and the darkness passed.  
  
*****  
  
The others eventually returned, but Padme said nothing about their decision. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and rested while Anakin cooked their food. After they'd eaten, Padme encouraged the others to rest as well, while she excused herself to look for a suit-able hiding place for Obi-Wan. Not too far away she found a small room with only one narrow entrance. The room contained an old counter which Obi-Wan could lie behind and still be able to see the doorway. Anyone who might try to enter the room would have to come in single file, making it easier for Obi-Wan to pick them off with a blaster.  
  
Satisfied, she rejoined the others. Jar Jar lay on the floor dozing. Anakin was inspecting one of the rifles, not for any purpose, but just to have something to do. Bail lay stretched out next to Obi-Wan, quietly telling him a story about some Senate intrigue. Every time they stopped, Obi-Wan would ask Bail to talk to him. It didn't matter what the Prince said. Obi-Wan seemed to draw comfort from the sound of his voice, and Padme had found herself growing used to it as well.  
  
Reluctantly, she interrupted Bail. "I found a good hiding place," she announced, looking at Obi-Wan.  
  
"Hiding place?" Bail echoed, as Jar Jar roused himself from sleep.  
  
Clearing her throat, Padme unconsciously assumed her royal voice. "Obi-Wan can't travel any more. He's going to stay here."  
  
"What?" Anakin sat up, stricken.  
  
Padme kept her gaze on Bail, seeking to convince him first. "He'll die if we keep moving him." She could see the struggle in the Prince's heart. He wanted to protest, but he also knew how bad Obi-Wan's injuries were.  
  
But Anakin would be another matter. He got to his feet and towered over her, trembling with barely contained fury. "I will not abandon him!" he whispered.  
  
Padme did not flinch or look away. Her voice steady, she said, "We're not abandoning him. He'll be able to conserve his strength, and we will travel that much faster, which means we can get back sooner with help."  
  
"Then I'm staying with him."  
  
Padme shook her head. "We need you to guide us out of here. He needs it."  
  
"I can stay," Bail offered, and Anakin flushed in anger to hear the Prince take on a role he considered his by right. Bail continued, "I'm hardly an asset on this journey, anyway."  
  
"No," Padme stated firmly. "He will be able to conceal himself better if he is alone. He and I have already discussed this and it's been decided. We'll leave him with the ration supplies, all our water, and a blaster. That's all he'll need until we get back." She didn't want to talk about it any more or prolong the farewell. They needed to get underway. She needed it, needed action to stave off her mounting despair. "Come on, let's move him into the room."  
  
The others responded automatically to her command, although Anakin dragged his feet, a scowl on his face. They gathered around Obi-Wan, two on each side of him, wedging their hands beneath him and hoisting him up as gently as they could. Padme guided them into the appointed room where they settled him behind the counter. Bail folded up the remains of Obi-Wan's robe and placed it under his head, then without looking up, asked, "Anakin, would you fetch the supplies and bring them in here, please?"  
  
Anakin stiffened, and Padme put a comforting hand on his shoulder to draw him away, Jar Jar looking on in sympathy. The three of them left the room. Anakin fumed, "Who does he think he is, bossing me around?"  
  
"Give him a chance to say good-bye," Padme counseled gently.  
  
/And what about me?/ Anakin silently cried. He was just the padawan. He was sent to fetch things, to take care of the others before his own master, to follow orders, never to follow his own heart. Sullen, he gathered together the supplies, a glorified errand boy. He nursed his resentment. It was easier to deal with than grief.  
  
Bail reappeared almost immediately and nodded to Anakin. The boy got to his feet and passed down the long hall to Obi-Wan's room. He knelt by his master's side and arranged the food and water within Obi-Wan's easy grasp. He just had to stay with Obi-wan. He couldn't leave him. He had turned his back on his mother, and she had vanished from his life. He had remained behind when Qui-Gon told him to, and Qui-Gon had been killed. If he could just stay within sight of Obi-Wan, nothing could happen to his master, could it?  
  
Obi-Wan watched his padawan, his heart aching for the boy. "I know you want to stay with me, but they are relying on you to get them safely out of here."  
  
/But I need you,/ Anakin despaired. Why didn't his master understand? Anakin was lost without Obi-Wan to guide him, to keep him on track. Alone, how could he keep that dark beast inside him secure? Anakin feared what would be unleashed in him without his master's calming presence. Obi-Wan was the last thing he had left to lose.  
  
Obi-Wan opened a pouch on his belt and removed a small knife which he used to cut off a long lock of his hair. Wordlessly, he reached up to Anakin and began to undo the boy's padawan braid. He wove his own hair in, then refastened the braid and lay back, wearied by the physical effort. "We are bound together, Anakin. I am never apart from you. You can and will lead the others to safety and come back to me. I do not doubt you, any more than I doubt myself."  
  
Anakin ran the braid through his fingers. Even in the near total darkness of the room he could see Obi-Wan's hair entwined with his. Obi-Wan would be this close to him. Maybe he could make it. "I will come back for you." The words echoed in his heart. He had made the same promise to his mother, and he had yet to fulfill it. But he would someday, and he would not fail Obi-Wan, either. On impulse, he leaned down and kissed Obi-Wan on the forehead, then got to his feet and left the room before his courage could fail him.  
  
Obi-Wan lay in the darkness, listening to the sound of Anakin's footsteps fade down the hall. When he could no longer hear him, he raised his hand to his forehead where Anakin had kissed him. The boy could be such a trial sometimes. Correction: most of the time. And then on rare occasions he would open his heart to Obi-Wan, engulfing his master with a love almost violent in its intensity. It awed Obi-Wan to know he inspired such devotion in Anakin, but at the same time it frightened him. Somehow this wasn't the quite the way a master-padawan relationship should be. The basis of the relationship should be mutual respect, cooperation, and a desire to learn. Not love, and certainly not the need that underlay so much of Obi-Wan's relationship with Anakin. Of course love inevitably grew between master and apprentice, but it usually took time. It had been years before Obi-Wan had finally felt he had earned his own master's love. Maybe that was why he had resented Anakin so much  
when they'd first met. It had wounded him to see how quickly Qui-Gon was willing to take the boy on as his Padawan, whereas he had had to work so hard for Qui-Gon's approval. Obi-Wan had assumed responsibility for Anakin not because it was his own wish, but because his beloved master had requested it of him, and his loyalty to Qui-Gon was so deep that he could not refuse.  
  
Obi-Wan had inherited a very wounded, deeply grieving boy, and he quickly learned that if he was ever going to teach Anakin anything, he would have to love him first. Surprisingly, this had not proven to be difficult. In the wake of Qui-Gon's death, Obi-Wan himself had been completely bereft. He had needed comfort in his loss as much as Anakin did. It had been easy to channel his love and devotion for Qui-Gon to Anakin instead, and he in turn had become a substitute for the mother Anakin had left behind. So the normal course of the master-padawan relationship had been reversed. It was not the boy's fault. The error was entirely Obi-Wan's.  
  
But they did not exist in a vacuum. From the beginning, the Jedi Council closely monitored Obi-Wan's progress with his remarkable pupil, and they sensed that Obi-Wan's style was unconventional. Of course the situation had started out unusually when they even agreed to let Anakin be trained at all. Obi-Wan had rapidly become as convinced as Qui-Gon that Anakin needed training, if only because his power was so great. The depths of Anakin's ability in the Force amazed and even frightened Obi-Wan. Without training, Anakin in time would have discovered how to use the Force on his own, a course that would have led inevitably to disaster. Anakin needed training, but Obi-Wan secretly wondered if he would ever become a Jedi. He lacked the discipline and grounding that were instilled in students from infancy. Obi-Wan always had to improvise with Anakin, who took nothing in the Temple for granted and constantly challenged why the Jedi did things the way they did. Jedi Masters far wiser  
than Obi-Wan often found themselves unable to answer Anakin's questions. How, then, was Obi-Wan supposed to teach him? More often than not he was left with having to trust his instincts, to compromise on rules, the way he looked the other way when Anakin ventured on his own from the Temple. The irony was that Obi-Wan, who had always been so orthodox, so troubled when Qui-Gon disagreed with the Council and bent the rules, found himself even farther from Jedi tradition than Qui-Gon had ever ventured. He now consulted with the Council as seldom as possible because he feared that if they knew how much he had compromised, they would expel Anakin from the Order. And as he and his padawan grew more isolated from the rest of the Jedi, their need for each other increased. Obi-Wan could not bear the thought of losing Anakin, but he feared that his attachment to the boy would ultimately do him more harm than good. And if he were to die, he didn't even want to think about what would  
happen to his remarkable but troubled young padawan. 


	10. Chapter Ten

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
  
  
  
  
It took several hours of searching before the three Jedi found Obi-Wan and Anakin's speeder. They flew above the layer of fog to report back their location to the Temple, then settled their skyhopper down on the ground and fanned out to inspect the carnage.  
  
Adi Gallia indicated that her apprentice should investigate the Jedi speeder. Bo-Neda would have preferred to check out the other speeder, which would surely be more interesting, but she did not complain. A quick inspection told her all she needed to know. "It was shot up from the underside," she reported to her master. "It's pretty thoroughly destroyed, but the survival packs are missing, indicating that someone took them."  
  
Adi nodded, then swept her gaze around the street. "What else can you tell me?"  
  
Eagerly, Bo-Neda crouched over the one body evident in the carnage. "Lightsaber wound to the chest. I think we know who gave him that," she pronounced with a hint of glee that wasn't quite proper for a Jedi. She leaned closer, inspecting his weapons holsters and armor. "This guy was really equipped. He looks like a professional."  
  
Bant joined the two of them, studying the man with her large, silver eyes. "But was he a professional terrorist, or something else?"  
  
Adi looked questioningly at the Mon Calamari, but Bant was not forthcoming with any theories. She looked back at her padawan. "What else?"  
  
Bo-Neda moved on to the other speeder, which was now nothing but burnt and twisted scrap metal. "Totaled," she remarked. "Not much here."  
  
"You conclude your investigation rather quickly," Bant remarked with disapproval.  
  
Chastened, Bo-Neda looked again at the speeder, not sure what she was supposed to be looking for. She couldn't find anything in the speeder, nor any sign of blood to indicate anyone had been injured when the speeder blew up.  
  
"What can you tell about the speeder itself?" Adi prompted.  
  
Bo-Neda circled the vehicle. "It's a two-passenger speeder, recent model, probably an ST-29. Front mounted turbocannon." She knelt and picked at a flake of paint. "It was tan at one time." She stopped and looked up at Adi, wondering what she had missed.  
  
"Think about it," Adi said. "Do ST-29s come equipped with turbocannons?"  
  
Bo-Neda's face lit up. "No. The turbocannon is pretty heavy artillery for such a small vehicle."  
  
"And if it only seats two people...?" Bant continued.  
  
Bo-Neda's brows knit in concentration. "If he'd found Organa, Binks, and the Queen, he couldn't have transported them back to the Hammer." She considered this for a moment. "Maybe there was another vehicle?"  
  
"Possibly," Adi admitted, "but not likely. Obi-Wan and Anakin clearly won this battle, but we never heard back from them. If there had been another vehicle, they would have been able to fly up and contact us."  
  
"Unless the other person got away," Bo-Neda suggested.  
  
"Possibly," Adi repeated, but she did not sound convinced. She looked at Bant. "What did you find?"  
  
She held out an ascension gun. "One of ours. It looks like it was damaged in a fall, and the thread's been cut by a saber. They tried to go up the building, but evidently did not succeed."  
  
Puzzled, Bo-Neda asked, "Where's the other gun?"  
  
Bant shook her head. "I couldn't find one."  
  
"So what does that mean?"  
  
"Any number of things," Adi said. "We can't possibly know what at this point."  
  
"But there's more," Bant said, moving out into the center of the street. "Notice the blast marks on the buildings on both sides of the street. These blast marks were made dead on, not at an angle. There were at least two people who were trying to flank Obi-Wan and Anakin's speeder. But we have only one body here."  
  
Bo-Neda perked up. "So their *was* another vehicle, and the other person got away!"  
  
"No," Bant corrected. "Look at this." She moved to the side of street and knelt down, picking up a small piece of plastisteel, burnt and curled along one edge. "This is high impact plastisteel, like the kind used for blaster armor, but this piece is damaged by a lightsaber. There are pieces all around here, but no body."  
  
Frowning, Bo-Neda guessed, "Someone survived and walked away?" But she knew how unlikely that was.  
  
"Or someone came and took the body away."  
  
"Then why didn't they take the other one?"  
  
Adi considered. "If these two were with the Hammer, or with any other organization, then I'd think both bodies would be removed. But the fact that only one was indicates that these were independent operatives, and whoever came here only cared about the one person and not the other."  
  
"The blaster shots over here indicate there was some some kind of scuffle," Bant continued. "But there is no sign of injury. My best hypothesis is that at least two mercenaries found Senator Organa and the others, but apparently didn't kill or capture them be-fore Obi-Wan and Anakin arrived. Obi-Wan and Anakin killed the mercenaries, all the vehicles were destroyed, anything useful was salvaged, and after trying unsuccessfully to go up the building with the ascension guns, they all headed off on foot."  
  
"But where did they go? Can you sense anything from Obi-Wan?"  
  
Bant shook her head. "No. I sense him, but it's very faint, too faint for me tell what direction he might have gone."  
  
"All right. Let's report back to the Temple. They mentioned something about the Plaza in their last contact. Let's head in that direction."  
  
  
  
*****  
  
Anakin set the pace, feverish in his desire to move as quickly as he was capable. Despite their exhaustion, the others managed to keep up. If they could have run without stopping, they would have.  
  
"The plaza was only about fifty kilometers away from where we started," Anakin told them. "If we've gone twenty kilometers, or even only ten, we can still get there tomorrow." They didn't even want to stop to eat, so eager were they to get out of the nightmare. But Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail were exhausted from their ordeal, and Bail and Jar Jar, weary from having carried Obi-Wan so long, kept lagging behind. Meanwhile, Anakin pressed on ahead, frustrated with the inability of the others to keep up.  
  
During one of their brief breaks, Anakin suggested, "Maybe you all should wait here, and I should go on alone. I can go a lot faster, and I can probably get there by nightfall."  
  
Jar Jar and Bail looked grateful, but Padme disagreed, "No. We stick together."  
  
"You didn't feel that way when it came to leaving Obi-Wan behind," Anakin protested.  
  
Tired of his hostility, Padme shot back, "He was injured. He couldn't move. We are all capable of walking."  
  
"But it would be faster--"  
  
"And what if more bounty hunters show up?" Padme challenged. "Could you take them on alone? Do you think we could?"  
  
As much as Bail would have liked to rest while Anakin went on ahead, he conceded, "Padme's right. As long as we can all walk on our own, we need to stay together."  
  
Anakin's eyes flashed darkly at the Prince. "Then you need to stop slowing us down and keep up."  
  
Padme felt she ought to say something to stop Anakin from taking out his frustration on Bail, but she was afraid that anything she might say would only further antagonize him. He might be a Jedi apprentice, and he certainly had skills they needed, but he was not mature enough to lead the group. Petty remarks directed at Bail were not an appropriate way for Anakin to relieve his stress, but Bail was an adult. Padme figured he could handle it. So far he had not responded at all to Anakin's taunts, so she followed his example and remained silent as well.  
  
They resumed their journey, sooner than Padme felt they should, but later than they all wanted to. Any fascination she may have once felt for the lower levels, imagining who had once lived there and what it had been like, had long ago vanished along with her fear. She had a feeling things would only get worse before they got better, but she couldn't deal with anything other than the present moment, with the act of will it took to keep placing one foot in front of the other.  
  
As they progressed, the buildings began to show signs of alteration and more recent habitation. Walls had been knocked down, makeshift barricades erected, and even the trash looked like it had been thrown away in Padme's lifetime, rather than generations before. They passed through a corridor and entered a large chamber that had been created by knocking down walls and ceilings. The algae on which they had been relying for light was scarce in the chamber, as if it had only recently begun to grow back after having been disturbed. Anakin turned on their lamp and directed the beam over their heads into the darkness. Two floors had been knocked out, and the rubble had been piled up around the room's periphery, though whether to clear the main chamber or to serve as a barricade, it was impossible to tell.  
  
"This didn't just fall apart," Anakin murmured to Padme. "Somebody altered this room on purpose."  
  
"What do you think they used it for?"  
  
Anakin shook his head. In his excursions, he had sometimes come across altered and abandoned parts of the lower levels like this, where he often found fascinating treasures of cobbled-together machinery. He would have liked to explore the room and try to unravel its mysteries, but now was not the time. He moved forward into the darkened room. Reluctantly, Padme followed him.  
  
"Do you think they piled up those walls to keep something out?" she asked. "Maybe we should go a different way."  
  
"We can't keep second-guessing everything. Going another way would take time. I don't sense any danger, so let's just maintain our course."  
  
They crossed the chamber and began to climb the wall of debris, Anakin holding the light in front of them while he nimbly scrambled over the barrier. Padme kept up without assistance, Jar Jar not far behind, his padded feet tough enough to endure the sharp edges of the chunks of concrete. But Bail fell behind. His smooth-soled shoes were not made for this kind of rough activity, and he was not in as good physical shape as the others. The others reached the top and climbed over, taking the light with them and plunging Bail into total darkness. He muttered to himself in irritation, feeling his way cautiously up the pile. He stepped onto a loose rock and slipped, painfully bouncing back down toward the ground. Every hand hold he reached for to slow his descent came loose in his grasp, and he tumbled down amid a shower of debris. He hit the ground hard, shaken, but still in one piece.  
  
From the other side of the pile, he heard Padme calling to him. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Perfectly fine," he retorted hotly. "Climbing mountains in pitch-black darkness is my favorite pastime."  
  
He heard someone climbing up the other side, and Padme appeared at the top, shining the lamp down at him. "Do you need any help?"  
  
He didn't bother to answer, too disgusted with her for asking such a silly question, with Anakin for berating him, with Jar Jar for having such long legs, and most of all with himself for being so completely out of his element. He climbed to his feet, wincing when he put his weight on his right leg. Padme shined the lamp on him, and he saw that his pants leg was torn, his knee gashed and bleeding. He found other cuts and scrapes on his hands and arms, but they were superficial. Shakily he resumed the ascent, this time aided by the light. By the time he reached the top, his knee was throbbing painfully.  
  
Padme inspected his injury. "It looks bad."  
  
"Don't worry, it feels worse than it looks," he grumbled. "I know I'm just a helpless old man, and you youngsters are eager to rush on ahead, but did it ever occur to you that I might be able to move faster if I could actually see where I'm going?"  
  
Chagrined, Padme offered, "Why don't you take the lamp, and we'll use Anakin's lightsaber to see by. We'll go slower, too."  
  
/Sure you will,/ Bail thought, but he bit back any reply. He and Padme scrambled down to where Jar Jar and Anakin waited, Anakin pacing impatiently. Padme said, "We'd better bind up that knee or it will start swelling. Anakin, give me your outer tunic."  
  
The boy stopped pacing. "Why me?"  
  
"Because you're the only one with clothes to spare."  
  
Indignant, Anakin protested, "He got himself injured, let him use his own shirt. At this rate I'll end up going naked to make bandages for him."  
  
"Fine," Padme spat. "Jar Jar, give me your vibroblade." The Gungan handed it to her, and she started to untuck her tunic. When Anakin realized she was going to use her own shirt, he hastily pulled off his outer tunic and flung it at the Prince. Without a word, Padme cut it into strips and bound Bail's knee.  
  
As she knotted the bandage, Anakin huffed, "Can we go now? We're wasting time."  
  
In a tense silence they set off again, only now Padme hung back with Bail while Jar Jar went ahead with Anakin. The Prince said nothing, but Padme knew his knee was hurting him. He favored his right leg, and as they walked on, she and Bail fell farther and farther behind the others. They could see Anakin's pale blade shimmering ahead of them in the dark corridor, occasionally disappearing as Anakin and Jar Jar turned a corner. Padme and Bail would eventually catch up, but one time they turned a corner and Anakin's blade was nowhere in sight. "Anakin!" Padme called out. "Where are you?"  
  
There was no answer, and for several long moments they waited with mounting apprehension. At last a faint light appeared ahead of them, and finally Anakin and Jar Jar returned.  
  
"We really do need to try to stick together," Padme cautioned.  
  
"Then he shouldn't dawdle," Anakin returned, gesturing at Bail. "You said as long as all of us can walk we should stay together. Well, now he can't walk. I think we should leave him behind."  
  
"We're not leaving him behind."  
  
"I can walk," Bail observed. "My knee is a little sore, but I've made it this far, and I can keep going. I just need us to slow down a little."  
  
"We can't slow down!" Anakin protested. "Why don't you just admit you can't keep up, and stay behind? Do you want Obi-Wan to suffer more while we wait for you?"  
  
"Anakin, that's enough," Bail snapped. He knew Anakin would not appreciate a rebuke from him, but the boy was losing focus, and Bail had to do what he could to help him regain control of himself. "You are behaving childishly, not like a Jedi. Is this what Obi-Wan taught you?"  
  
Anakin seethed, "How dare you! You don't know anything about the Jedi!"  
  
"I've known the Jedi longer than you have," Bail pointed out. "And I know Obi-Wan. He would have told you to watch out for all of us. Is this the way you keep your pledge to him?"  
  
The Prince might as well have spat in his face. Black fire coursed through Anakin's veins as the dark beast inside him stirred, uncoiling itself from his spine where it had lain dormant, hungry to issue its venom on Bail. "You don't know Obi-Wan," he whispered, his face cold with hatred. "You are not a Jedi. You will never understand him."  
  
Bail faltered beneath the force of Anakin's hatred. /Some people are skilled at reading our weaknesses,/ Padme had told him in the nightclub, when he had let himself by rankled by Senator Kleyvits' innuendo. He knew what Bail's weakness was, the crack in his self-assurance. He had always known it, and he used it now. "You are nothing to Obi-Wan. He keeps you around like an old habit because you amuse him, but he doesn't love you." His words plunged into Bail's soul as sharp as a vibroblade. Anakin could see it. This was a new power, the ability to destroy someone with their own doubt. And like all power, it came easily to Anakin. He pressed the attack. "How could he love you? You're a silly, shallow, ridiculous playboy. He only stays with you out of pity." The beast pulsed through Anakin. He could read Bail's hidden doubts as plainly as if they were written on a page in front of him. /The hardest part is not to let your own doubts rule you./ But Bail wouldn't stand a chance. With a wicked thrill, Anakin hammered away at him, exposing the Prince's deepest fear. "You're just a substitute for Qui-Gon. But you can never replace him because you're not a Jedi. You need Obi-Wan to give your life depth, but he could leave you tomorrow, and he would never miss you."  
  
A hand flew out of nowhere and slapped him hard across his face. The beast snarled, and he turned in anger at his attacker. It was Padme, her expression stern. Her gaze never wavered, and she stood before him, self- possessed, determined. This was true power. "This will stop right now," she pronounced, and she would not be contradicted. "Never speak that way again, to Bail or anyone else." The beast shrank at her disapproval, and Anakin felt its power drain from him, leaving him shaken, horrified at what he had done. /Is this what Obi-Wan taught you? Is this how you keep your pledge to him?/ No, this wasn't what he'd been taught. How could he betray his master so deeply?  
  
Taking a step backward, he faltered, "I-I'm sorry." He spoke to Padme, not Bail. He couldn't face Bail.  
  
Padme's expression softened. "Why don't we take a break? We all need to calm down." He nodded, gulping for air. "Anakin, why don't you look for water? Jar Jar can scout for food."  
  
Anakin turned and fled down the hall to escape his shame. Jar Jar, still distressed by what had happened, headed in the opposite direction. Now alone, Padme helped Bail settle onto the ground. When she took his arm, she could feel him trembling. "He didn't mean what he said," she offered.  
  
"I think I know Anakin better than you do," he bitterly contradicted, "and I assure you, he meant every word."  
  
Padme absorbed this in silence, chewing her lip. Bail and Anakin would have to mend this rift or they would never make it home. She tried again. "He's frightened for Obi-Wan. He didn't know what he was saying."  
  
Bail sighed heavily. "I'll grant you he is frightened. Obi-Wan is all that boy has. And he is right. He shares a bond with Obi-Wan that I can never have."  
  
"But you don't have to be a Jedi for Obi-Wan to love you."  
  
Bail only turned his face away from her, and she could feel the doubt gnawing inside of him. For a long time he was silent, and Padme was at a loss as to how to comfort him. She didn't understand how he could believe what Anakin had spoken in anger, words that were so obviously meant to hurt him.  
  
At last Bail turned back to her. "When I said good-bye to Obi-Wan back there, I found myself wanting to give him my ring to keep until we came back. Isn't that silly? As if it was a talisman or token that would mean anything to him."  
  
"I don't think it sounds silly," Padme said.  
  
Bail shrugged. "I'm always giving gifts to people. I like to give people something they will take pleasure in, something they will cherish because it came from me. But I've never been able to give Obi-Wan anything. Everything I ever thought of seemed useless and trite. It was years before I finally came up with something. Can you guess what it is?" Padme shook her head. With a rueful laugh, Bail supplied, "Every year on his birthday I give him a belt for his tunic. It's something completely practical, and yet I spend all year looking for the right one. It's always simple for his tastes, and elegant for mine. I give it to him be-cause I know he will use it. But what does it really mean to him? When he puts it on, does he think, 'What a lovely belt Bail gave me,' or does he just think, 'Ah, here's the hook for my lightsaber.' I always have to have those added, but does he even know? If I stopped giving them to him, would he notice, or would he just wait until the last one wore out and go buy himself a new one?"  
  
Padme shook her head. "Of course he cares. Remember how he got jealous when you talked about that woman?"  
  
"But was it really jealousy, or was he just annoyed by the antics of a 'silly playboy?' Anakin was right: I am just an old habit."  
  
"That's ridiculous--"  
  
Angry, Bail interrupted, "Stop trying to protect me! You know nothing about it. I was hand-picked by Qui-Gon for Obi-Wan. He met me and said, 'Here's a lively fellow Obi-Wan's bound to like.' He wanted Obi-Wan to have friends his own age, but the only reason why Obi-Wan ever gave me a chance is because Qui-Gon asked him to. I could never compete with Qui-Gon. The bond between a master and padawan is deeper than any love, any tie of friendship or family. Even after all these years, Obi-Wan mourns Qui-Gon as if he died yesterday. He could never mourn me like that."  
  
He looked away, fists clenched tightly. "The truth is, I hate Qui-Gon Jinn," he hissed. "I hate him for introducing me to someone who will never love me as much as he loves his master." He paused, and the tension drained from him almost as quickly as it had arisen, as if it was too much to hold onto such an old, familiar resentment. "But it doesn't matter," he shrugged, his voice sad and weary. "I love Obi-Wan. I can't help it. As long as he will keep me, it's enough. But one day he will grow weary of me and leave, and then what shall I do?"  
  
He had to be mistaken, but after all, how could Padme know? She certainly could not convince Bail, so she stopped trying. Instead, she lay her arm across his shoulders and pulled him into her embrace.  
  
*****  
  
Anakin did not return for a long time, and Padme began to fear that he may have abandoned them after all. If he had, maybe it was for the best. It was true he could travel faster, but she didn't like the idea that he might have gone off in such a disturbed state. Then again, he may have simply run into trouble while looking for water, whether bounty hunters or blood- sucking cockroaches. How would they know? Where would they look for him? What could they possibly do to help?  
  
She didn't know if these same thoughts troubled Bail, or if he was still smarting from Anakin's attack. He remained silent until Jar Jar showed up with the usual menu. The Gungan crouched next to Padme, his eyes darting around for any sign of Anakin. "Where's Ani?" he asked.  
  
"He's still gone."  
  
Jar Jar absorbed this news with apprehension. "Hesa comen back, eh?"  
  
"Yes," Padme answered, but she had hesitated, and Jar Jar noticed. He pursed his lips mournfully.  
  
Bail spoke up. "He has to come back. He's the only one who can cook our food, and I swear I will not eat another raw rat."  
  
Padme supposed he was trying to make light of their predicament, but he didn't sound very humorous, and it certainly didn't make her and Jar Jar feel better. On the contrary, the comment that Anakin was the only one who could cook their food reminded her that he also had the decontamination tablets. Without him, they had no water, and they had left all their ration bars with Obi-Wan. If Anakin had abandoned them, and Bail indeed refused to eat the rats, he was effectively committing suicide. Surely that's not what he meant, but Padme could not shake the thought from her mind. Bail had given up. Obi-Wan lay wounded alone. Anakin had abandoned them. And the bounty hunters were still out there. Each thought lay upon her heart like a heavy stone.  
  
Padme had thought herself very brave during all their trials, but now she realized how much she had relied on the others. As long as they were all together, she had believed nothing could happen to them. But she had been wrong, and the knowledge quietly disintegrated her will power. Tears rose effortlessly in her eyes. It felt somehow good to give in to despair. It was so hard to hold onto hope, and now it slipped through her fingers like water. She leaned back against the wall and rested her head on Bail's shoulder, tears flowing freely, deliciously down the bridge of her nose. He put his arm around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head, and she was once more reminded of the way her mother used to hold her. Would her mother ever learn what had happened to her in Coruscant's belly?  
  
They sat together in darkness, in silence, waiting for nothing at all. Then Jar Jar sat up, his long ears cocked. For several heartbeats he listened intently, then he smiled. "Ani's comen."  
  
Bail squeezed her shoulder, and she choked back her grief, straining in the darkness, until at last she, too, could hear his footsteps. A dark shadow appeared against the darker walls, and Padme leaped to her feet, running to meet him, throwing her arms around his neck and holding him as tightly as to the return of hope itself.  
  
Anakin passively received her embrace, wrapping his arms around her. He had not expected such a reception. For an hour he had struggled with his guilt and been unable to master it, but now Padme's welcome lifted some of it at last. In his mind she had no reason to be glad to see him, but here she was, and if she accepted him, maybe he could accept himself.  
  
An eternity of grace went by. Then Padme's arms loosened and she stepped back. "We were waiting for you," she whispered.  
  
"I'm sorry I took so long."  
  
"It's all right." She took his hand and led him back to the others. He settled cross-legged onto the ground and handed the water bottle to Bail. The Prince recognized that in offering him the bottle first, Anakin was making a gesture of reconciliation. Bail took several long sips, then passed the bottle back to Anakin. As the boy drank, Bail remarked, "You're just the man we've been waiting for. No one can broil a rat like you can."  
  
Normally Anakin would have suspected Bail of putting him down with such a remark, but he knew that was not the case. Bail's kindness made him feel even more guilty for what he'd said before. Anakin heartily wished Padme and Jar Jar weren't there to witness his apology (twice in two days!), but he could feel Padme radiating love and support, and it gave him strength. Anakin stared down at his hands folded in his lap. "I'm sorry for what I said."  
  
Bail remained silent, pain rolling off him, and Anakin realized how completely effective he'd been in his attack. It amazed him that he could disturb Bail so deeply, and his shame increased. He forced himself to look up at Bail. A mere apology was not enough. "You need to know that none of it was true." He could tell that Bail still didn't believe him. "Everything I said, I got from you. It was just like Senator Kleyvits and what she did at the nightclub: I read your own doubts and fed them straight back to you. Obi-Wan does care about you, you know." Bail looked away, struggling to overcome his own misgivings. Anakin continued, "I'm really sorry for what I did. You're right, I have been acting like a child, not like the way Obi- Wan taught me. I'm sorry for all the times I got on your case and yelled at you and said we should leave you behind." He paused. "I'm sorry, and I ask your forgiveness." Then he waited, the way he never waited for anything in his life, humbly, contritely, like a true Jedi.  
  
His total submission surprised Bail. He had never heard the boy apologize so sincerely to him before. He wouldn't have believed he was even capable of it. Whatever his own doubts about Obi-Wan, Bail knew this was a rare moment for him and Anakin. "I do forgive you," he said at last.  
  
/I forgive you./ What magical, powerful words! Anakin swore he could hear his master's voice echo in Bail's. The beast within him loosened its grip on his heart, and he breathed freely, feeling light-headed. He would get them all out safely, and he would keep his pledge to Obi-Wan. "Everything will be all right," he predicted with new-found confidence. "You'll see. Tomorrow night you will all be sleeping in your own beds! So to celebrate, why don't we have one more round of rat parfait?"  
  
"If it's our last rat meal, that is indeed cause for celebration," Bail smiled.  
  
"But, Ani, mesa love your cooken. Disa food muy tasty!" Jar Jar enthused, happy that the conflict had been ironed out and Anakin seemed to be his old self again.  
  
As Anakin ignited his blade, he felt compelled to clear up that particular misunderstanding. Now that he'd made one confession, he might as well keep them coming. "Actually, when Obi-Wan said that about me, he was just being nice. I'm really a terrible cook. The only reason why you all like these rats is because we have nothing else to eat."  
  
"That's not entirely true," Padme offered. "Okay, granted that rats aren't exactly high on the list for any of us, but you have gotten good at not scorching them. They are edible, thanks to you, and that's no mean feat."  
  
Anakin smiled broadly at her praise and wondered if it was possible to die of happiness. How ridiculous he'd been when he had tried so hard to impress Padme. His master was right: all he had to do was be himself. How he had tried Obi-Wan's patience that night! From now on he would be a model padawan. That is, if he still had a master. A dark ache momentarily overcame him as he thought of Obi-Wan, but he banished his doubts. Obi-Wan would be fine. He smiled to think of how pleased his master would be with Anakin's new-found obedience. As proof, he started to brag about his incomparable master. "Obi-Wan is a great cook," he offered to Padme and Jar Jar. "You'll have to try his cooking some time. He's like a gourmet chef. He can make anything."  
  
"Really?" Padme asked, as pleased as Jar Jar to have the old Anakin back with his surplus of enthusiasm.  
  
Bail, who had more than a passing familiarity with Obi-Wan's cooking, drawled, "I didn't realize he was that good."  
  
"Of course, don't you remember? That time we came to Alderaan on vacation, and Obi-Wan made that steak with the berries and stuff in it, and I thought it sounded gross, but it was really good, and I ate four servings?"  
  
"Ah, yes, I remember now." He remembered that he had done most of the cooking himself. Obi-Wan could read a recipe, but that was about it.  
  
Anakin was feeling so generous, he decided he could even kiss up further to Bail. "There's something else you ought to know," he offered. "The Council almost didn't let us come look for you. They said we were too personally involved. But Obi-Wan would have come anyway. There was no way he wasn't going to come rescue you."  
  
A lump rose in Bail's throat, and Anakin could feel how deeply his words moved the Prince. He hesitated, hoping to move Padme as well. Thoughtfully, he said, "I think the Council would have been wrong not to send us. I think that if you care for someone, you will do everything you can to help them. Nothing would have kept me from coming, either." He studiously avoided looking at Padme.  
  
Bail caught the boy's hidden meaning and decided that since Anakin was making so many concessions to him, he ought to return the favor by goading the boy into being more explicit. "Why, Anakin, I didn't know you felt that way about me."  
  
"Not you!" Anakin protested, then flamed red when he realized he had fallen into the Prince's trap. Trying to salvage the situation, he finished, "I mean, you're not always so bad."  
  
Bail smiled, "I'm deeply moved. Truly."  
  
Padme had also understood what Anakin was trying to say, and she wanted to send a message back to him. "I would also do anything to help people I care about, and I care about all of you."  
  
"Me, too," Jar Jar offered. He still didn't understand all the romantic nuances of what had been taking place among the humans, but friendship was something he did understand. Anakin and the others might not be Gungans, but Jar Jar couldn't love them more if they were.  
  
Bail laughed in delight. Not long ago they had all been on the verge of despair, and yet somehow not only had they mended the rift, but they had found hope again. He did not doubt it when Anakin said they would be home by tomorrow. He sent a loving wish to Obi-Wan, knowing that while he was not a Jedi, somehow Obi-Wan would hear his thoughts. Returning his attention to his present companions, he confessed, "I must say that if I have to slog through Coruscant's bowels with bounty hunters on my tail, I couldn't do it in finer company."  
  
"Hear, hear!" Padme cheered. She held aloft one of the discarded rat tails. "I propose a toast. To the Rat Diners Society!"  
  
The others chorused the toast in return, waving rat tails, and collapsing into relieved laughter. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Desperate, Anakin called out, "Hey! Wait for me!"  
  
The blue eyes, warm like the Tatooine sky, locked onto him, firm but full of compassion and concern. "Anakin, stay where you are. You'll be safe there."  
  
"But I --"  
  
"Stay in the cockpit!"  
  
Anakin hunkered down in the pilot's seat, frightened, watching as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turned and walked away. But hadn't Qui-Gon told him to watch and learn? How could he learn if Qui-Gon wasn't there? He hated to disobey, but he knew he couldn't remain behind. Qui-Gon was injured, and he needed Anakin's help. "I'll save you, Master!" he cried out. "I'll come back and rescue you!"  
  
He scrambled out of the cockpit and ran after Qui-Gon, chasing down endless dark corridors. He was lost. He didn't know how to get out. But he could feel Qui-Gon's presence, his master's need. He would find him. He had to.  
  
He ran out into a large chamber. It had once been a shopping area, but now it was abandoned. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were fighting the bounty hunters. Anakin wanted to help them, but he didn't know what to do. "Master, you will train me, won't you? I want to be your padawan!"  
  
But it wasn't Qui-Gon who turned. It was Obi-Wan, his face contorted with hate. "He can only have one padawan. He is my master, not yours. He will never be yours."  
  
Anakin screamed, for when Obi-Wan had turned away from Qui-Gon, he had left his master exposed. The bounty hunter, his red and black tattooed face impassive, raised his lightsaber and plunged it into Qui-Gon's heart, while Obi-Wan just stood by and watched.  
  
Grief ripped through Anakin's body, with talons as sharp as a hawk bat's. Horrified, he turned on Obi-Wan. "How could you? You could have saved him, but you let him die!"  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head helplessly, his sad eyes brown, like Shmi's. "I wasn't fast enough. I tried, but I couldn't get there in time."  
  
Desperate, Anakin begged, "What will happen to me now?"  
  
Obi-Wan looked on him with compassion. "The Council have granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi, I promise."  
  
But what was such a promise worth, coming from one who had let his own master be killed? Obi-Wan had never wanted him before, why did he want to train him now?  
  
Anakin held up his lightsaber. He had built it with his own hands. No one had believed he could build it so fast. Most students had to try several times over a period of months before they finally succeeded in constructing a live saber, but Anakin had always been good at building things, and he had known exactly what to do. It had only taken him three days, and he knew it would work. He pushed the activation stud, and the blade sang into life, deep red, the color of Qui-Gon's blood. He didn't need training. He had all the power he could ever want.  
  
He pointed his blade at Kenobi. "When we last met, I was but the learner. Now, I am the Master!"  
  
Obi-Wan met his gaze, his eyes blue again, but not warm like the Tatooine sky. They were colder than deep space. "You are only a master of evil."  
  
Snarling, Anakin ran at Obi-Wan, the blood-red blade slashing at his chest. Obi-Wan collapsed, dead. Anakin stood over him, power coursing through him, so strong, so fierce, so uncontrollable he thought he would explode. Raw energy tore through him, ripping muscle from bone, boiling the blood in his veins, peeling the skin from his body. It felt like he was on fire. He couldn't take it any more. He would die.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Anakin jolted awake, jerking upright, gasping desperately for breath. His heart pounded so hard he thought it would burst through his ribcage. He couldn't see anything. His eyes had been burned away. He raised trembling hands to his ravaged face, but his fingers touched smooth skin, not the charred flesh that he expected. He ran his hands over his face, feeling his intact features, his hair, his braid. His hair and Obi-Wan's. He shuddered violently. Obi-Wan had killed his master. Obi-Wan had done nothing, had stood by while Qui-Gon was cut down.  
  
/No, that's not true!/ Obi-Wan had tried to save Qui-Gon but couldn't get there in time. One night not long after Qui-Gon's death, Obi-Wan had sat Anakin down and told him the whole story of what had happened that awful day, how desperately he had wanted to save Qui-Gon, just as Anakin had wanted to save Obi-Wan from the bounty hunters. Like Obi-Wan, Anakin couldn't get there in time. He could do nothing to help.  
  
But that had been his own fault, hadn't it? A moment of carelessness, an unforgivable moment of bravado, of a desire for vengeance, and Anakin had almost cost Obi-Wan his life. Is that also what had happened on Naboo? It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. Obi-Wan had loved Qui-Gon. He loved Anakin now, as Anakin loved him.  
  
Didn't he?  
  
Anakin trembled violently, horrified, ill. He staggered unsteadily to his feet, struggling to free himself from the dream's spell, to remember where he was. The ground level of Coruscant. Bail and Jar Jar lay asleep nearby, he could hear their even breathing in the darkness. Padme was on watch. Obi- Wan was wounded somewhere. /And it's my fault./  
  
The dark beast returned, screaming inside him. Anakin clutched desperately at his head, wanting to crack open his skull and tear the beast out of his brain. This couldn't be! None of it was true! It was a nightmare, a nightmare only. He had had enough of them to know. They had become his nightly companions, those horrible dreams of loss, of betrayal, of hatred, of revenge. Anakin had taught himself how to forget them, how to lock them away, to feed them to the beast who swallowed them eagerly, so that Anakin could not remember them by the time he jolted awake. But even the beast was not strong enough to devour this dream, and without the beast's help, how could he control himself?  
  
Anakin stumbled out of the room, away from the others so the darkness inside him couldn't harm them. Master Yoda spoke so sanctimoniously about anger, fear, aggression, but he had no idea what they really were. None of the Jedi did. Anakin, however, knew them like the sound of his own breathing, the taste of his own sweat, the beating of his own heart.  
  
His feet carried him down the hall, his face buried in his hands. He walked blindly, like a drunkard, not a Jedi, knocking into the walls, tripping over his own feet, finally stumbling over a pile of debris and falling to his hands and knees. He curled up on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest. /Master, I need you! Help me, please!/ he cried silently. He didn't know if he was calling for Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon, but it didn't really matter. Neither of them could help him. No one could. It would be better for everyone if he just disappeared into the labyrinth and never re-emerged. It would be better for everyone if he just died.  
  
He didn't know how long he lay there, but he slowly became aware of a gentle warmth penetrating all the way to his inner dark core, melting away his fear, tugging gently at the fierce grip the beast held on his soul. It wasn't his Mas-ter. It wasn't his mother. But he knew that touch.  
  
Slowly he opened his eyes. A luminous face shone above him, lit by an inner light. That face was so beautiful, but its beauty had nothing to do with  
  
physical appearance. She was an angel. He'd known it the first moment he'd laid eyes on her. She was an ethereal creature of strength, of goodness, of light. Her healing touch spread through him, an anti-venom to the beast's dark poison.  
  
Padme had been keeping her watch out in the hallway. She had seen Anakin stumble out of the room where they had made camp. She could sense his anguish, and she had followed him. "Are you all right?" she asked.  
  
Her voice fell on him like droplets of liquid gold, seeping into his cold skin the way Tatooine's twin suns gently burned away the nighttime chill. He rose, melting into her arms, into safety, into peace. His breathing was ragged, choked, but he did not cry. Anakin Skywalker never cried.  
  
She held him, stroking his hair, rubbing his back, rocking him the way her mother used to rock her. Slowly his breathing grew even, and she could feel him begin to relax, just a little bit.  
  
"You're worried about Obi-Wan."  
  
He said nothing, unable to answer.  
  
Padme continued, "I know it was hard for you to leave him behind. But soon we'll be out of here, and we'll get back to him with help. He'll be all right."  
  
His grip on her tightened. He wanted to give in to her, to tell her the whole truth. But how could he? She wouldn't understand, and she would hate him. Even his angel couldn't save him from the beast.  
  
Padme reached into her shirt and pulled out her pendant. She held it up in the faint light for him to see. "Do you remember this?"  
  
Astonished, Anakin recognized the necklace he had carved for her all those years ago.  
  
"I wear it every single day," she told him. "I never take it off. It reminds me that in the darkest hour of my life, someone helped me, someone I had only just met. And he helped me not out of a sense of duty or for reward but purely from a generous heart. I have never forgotten you, Ani. I owe you everything. I will always be your friend."  
  
Had he really once been so pure? Anakin could hardly remember the boy he'd been back then, sheltered from the horrors of slavery by his mother, eager to help the beautiful stranger who had walked into Watto's shop. Could she be his salvation now?  
  
"I had a dream" he began, his voice seizing up. He never told anyone about the dreams. "We fought, Obi-Wan and me. We were dueling with our lightsabers." He drew in a long, ragged breath. "I slashed him in the chest. I killed him."  
  
Padme remained silent for several moments. "You blame yourself for his injury."  
  
"Shouldn't I? It was my fault."  
  
"It's always easier to see afterward what we should have done, but we were being attacked by three bounty hunters on bikes. That's a lot even for two Jedi to handle. You didn't want Obi-Wan to be hurt."  
  
And was one Sith Lord too much for two Jedi to handle as well? He remembered how fiercely the dark warrior had fought on Tatooine. If Qui-Gon hadn't been able to leap into the ship, he would have been killed. Maybe Obi-Wan couldn't have saved Qui-Gon after all.  
  
But the same could not be said of Anakin. "A Jedi should never lose focus like I did. I should never have abandoned Obi-Wan's flank. It's all my fault. If he dies --" He squeezed his eyes shut, the terror of the dream washing over him once more, drowning out his hope. In the dream, both his masters had died. There had been no one left to save him from his own power. "If Obi-Wan dies, no one else will train me."  
  
"That's not true --"  
  
"Yes it is," he bitterly protested. "None of them wanted me to be trained in the first place." He heard again Mace's cool voice, saw his granite eyes, as he pronounced the verdict in the Council room. /He will not be trained./ In the end they had rescinded their decision, but only under pressure. They gave in because Obi-Wan had promised to defy them. Obi-Wan, who had never trusted him, had pledged his support once Qui-Gon was gone. Anakin's heart bled with the need to believe in Obi-Wan. His fingers reached for his braid. /We are bound together. I do not doubt you, any more than I doubt myself./ He wanted so desperately to believe, but he could not. /If I doubt myself, Master, does that mean I can't trust you?/  
  
The beast gnawed relentlessly at his heart. /This is your destiny,/ the icy voice rang in his chest. /You cannot escape it./ Anakin groaned. "Everyone I love, everyone who loves me, I lose them."  
  
"Not everyone, Ani," Padme said gently. "I'm still here."  
  
He shivered, and honesty compelled him to say, "I'll only betray you, too."  
  
"No, you won't." The way she said it, it didn't sound like a belief or a conviction, but like a fact, as immutable as the rising and setting of the suns. "I know you. You would never betray me."  
  
Her cool lips pressed against his burning forehead, and she rested her cheek against his. Her touch was like cool water at mid-day, like a song in tired ears, like the release of a long-held breath, like the stars anchored in the sky. She believed in him. She could save him. And slowly, hesitantly, he allowed himself to believe her, too, to believe that it would be all right, that he wouldn't drive her away as he had his mother and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.  
  
But the beast in his heart knew better. Because in his dream, in that instant before the fire overcame him, he had killed Obi-Wan. And his black soul had rejoiced. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
Note: Once again I shamelessly stole from "Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter" with the electro-net. And the Phindian is the same species as Paxxi and Guerra from the supremely excellent Jedi Apprentice series. If you haven't read those books, you are missing the best pro-fic of the Star Wars universe!  
  
  
  
Chapter Twelve  
  
  
  
When Anakin next woke, he did not know if he had dreamed at all. He felt exhausted, drained. His sleep had not been restful, but at least he didn't remember his dreams. He lay curled up next to Padme. Asleep, she was even more beautiful. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't dare. He rose quietly so as not to disturb her, and returned to the room where Jar Jar and Bail lay sleeping, to retrieve the water bottles. He didn't have to go far to find the water source he'd identified the day before. It was a shallow pool. Not very clean, but the water at the surface was fairly clear, and the decontamination tablets took care of any biohazards. Anakin drank deeply of the bitter water, then refilled the bottle. He had one more errand before returning to the others. During his wandering the night before he had come across a pile of debris. He hoped to find something the Prince could use as a walking stick to help take the pressure off his injured knee.  
  
He soon found the trash pile and scrounged around for a suitable stick or strut of some kind. Why hadn't he thought to look for a walking stick for Bail before? Why had he made the journey so hard for the Prince? But he knew why. He hadn't cared. Anakin liked the idea of being a dashing hero, of rushing in to save the helpless and defeat evildoers. He had been so enamored of this romantic vision of himself that he had failed to recognize that real life was different. Real life was about trudging through long, dark corridors, about scrounging for food and water, about calming fears and cooling tempers. Real life was about accepting people's shortcomings and helping them to move beyond their limits. Real life meant that even dashing heroes had weaknesses.  
  
Anakin had not acquitted himself very well on this mission. Yes, he'd killed some bounty hunters, but he had failed the people who really needed him, first by not attending to their needs, and then by passing his frustration onto them for the mistakes he had made. But this mission wasn't about Anakin Skywalker being a hero. It was about saving people's lives. He had made mistakes, but fortunately everyone was still alive, including Obi- Wan, to the best of his knowledge. From now on he must set aside even his own self-doubt and do everything he could to make sure they all stayed alive. He must rise above himself. He must live for the others.  
  
He found a suitable walking stick and headed back to their camp, feeling older. Maybe not wiser, certainly not happier, but more experienced, hardened, and hopefully more capable of fulfilling his duty. No more rash promises about being a model padawan. He would simply do what he had to do.  
  
When he returned, he found the others rousing from sleep. He passed around the water bottles and handed Bail the stick, saying, "I thought this would help you walk better. How does your knee feel?"  
  
Bail flexed his right leg tentatively. It didn't bend very far. Wincing, he said, "It's stiff, but I'll survive. Thank you for the walking stick. It will definitely help."  
  
Anakin nodded. "Today, you set the pace, and the rest of us will keep up. We'll be out of here soon enough."  
  
They breakfasted on cold rat, and before long were once more on their way. They walked in silence, at a slow but steady pace. They were all more than ready to leave the ground level, and they focused all their energy and attention on that task, leaving no room for chit chat or batter.  
  
As they progressed, they saw more and more signs of recent habitation. Someone had lived here not long ago, maybe still lived there. No one was sure if this was good news or bad news. Anakin kept his hand close to his lightsaber hilt, watchful and alert.  
  
They came to a small atrium that had several corridors branching off it. Padme started to enter the atrium, heading toward the corridor opposite them, but Anakin stopped her. She looked at him nervously. "What is it?"  
  
He only shook his head. "Something's not good, but I don't know where or what it is." Anakin's Force-sense was amazingly perceptive, but he could have a hard time focusing it if he wasn't personally connected in some way.  
  
The others waited in anxious silence as Anakin concentrated. Jar Jar, though frightened, was too tired to whimper. Bail reluctantly prompted, "So, what do we do?"  
  
Anakin apprehensively peered down the corridors one by one, stretching out with his senses but picking up on no malicious intent, sentient or otherwise. "I don't know," he admitted.  
  
Padme looked at Jar Jar. "Do you hear anything?" The Gungan wagged his head no. She suggested, "Maybe we should go back the way we came and find another route."  
  
Anakin considered, then slowly shook his head. "It would take too long. We might as well go on. We can face whatever it is." He straightened his shoulders, projecting a confidence he didn't actually feel, and led the group into the atrium.  
  
They were half way across the clearing when Anakin's danger sense snapped into focus. "It's above us!" he screamed, igniting his blade. "Run!"  
  
But it was too late. They had unwittingly tripped a sensor, and an electro- net fell upon them from where it had been concealed on the ceiling. Anakin's saber sparked violently when it came into contact with the net. An excruciating pain shot through his arm and into his body, and he blacked out.  
  
*****  
  
An ear-splitting alarm went off, jolting Padme back into consciousness, her head aching. At least this time she didn't feel like throwing up. She only wished her skull would split open so the rampaging kaadu stomping around in her brain could get out. She carefully pushed herself up into a sitting position. The other three still lay unconscious. They were in a cage, a large cell made up of bars as big as her forearm.  
  
The cage was in the center of another large, warehouse-like room. Like the one they had encountered before, several levels above had been knocked out to form a high ceiling. Walls had been removed to create a large room, and sections of the outer wall had been cut through on the upper levels to admit light. But unlike the other room, this one was inhabited. It was a kind of squatters' camp. Makeshift tents and shelters had been constructed around the edges of the room. People sat around campsites or worked on broken pieces of machinery. No one was looking in her direction. In fact, they seem to avoid looking at the prisoners.  
  
She crawled over to Anakin's side and gently shook him awake. He roused instantly, then uttered a low moan, clutching his right arm. Concerned, Padme asked, "Are you all right?"  
  
He grimaced. "Yeah. That net shorted out my saber and gave my arm a nasty shock, but I'll be okay." He cautiously flexed his arm while looking around and taking in their situation as Padme had done. While she woke Bail and Jar Jar, Anakin noticed that their weapons were gone, including his lightsaber.  
  
Bail clutched his head. At least the headache made him forget about his knee. He looked out at the room's inhabitants. "Any idea who these people are?"  
  
Padme shook her head. "They are ignoring us."  
  
Bail looked at Anakin, almost as if seeking the boy's permission. "They don't look like bounty hunters," he observed. "They look homeless. I suggest we try to talk with them and find out what they want with us."  
  
Anakin nodded, and Bail gingerly got to his feet, followed by the others. He tried to catch someone's eye, but no one looked at them. "Excuse me," he called out.  
  
A small group that had been sitting around a makeshift table rose and approached the cage, pointing rifles at them, *their* rifles, the ones they'd taken from the bounty hunters, including Padme's little blaster, and --  
  
"My lightsaber!" Anakin exclaimed in a low voice.  
  
The weapon hung from the belt of a tough looking, middle-aged Phindian. "It doesn't work anymore," she informed him. "The electro-net seems to have broken it. Too bad. I've always wanted to see a lightsaber in action." She shrugged. "I'd give it back to you, but who knows? You might be able to fix it, and we can't have that."  
  
"Who are you?" Bail asked.  
  
The Phindian sneered at him. "We're no one to you, Senator."  
  
So their captors knew who they were. Not a good sign.  
  
The leader continued, spreading her long arms wide to indicate the community in the room. "We are the undocumented, the disappeared, the outcasts. Your Republic has no place for us, so we live down here where no one bothers us and we don't bother no-body."  
  
Bail mildly observed, "Except us. You have obviously captured us."  
  
The Phindian laughed. "True enough! Somebody visited us and told us you might be coming along. We promised we'd keep an eye out for you, and you obligingly walked into one of our security nets."  
  
"Who wants us?" Bail asked, hoping against hope that it might be the Jedi or Security Forces.  
  
"They didn't say who they were," the Phindian admitted, "but they looked really nasty, and they promised to reward us well. They are going to supply us with new IDs so we can all get out of here."  
  
The bounty hunters would have such contacts. The prisoners' hearts sank. Bail offered, "If you know who we are, then you'll realize that we can reward you as well. We can pay you more than the bounty hunters are offering."  
  
One of the others, a Gotal, nudged the Phindian and grumbled, "See, I told you."  
  
Trying to hide her dismay, the Phindian replied, "What would you have me do? Go up against bounty hunters?"  
  
"We could have caught them first and then made a decision. The bounty hunters would never need to know."  
  
"You don't think they would have found out and come back for revenge?" the Phindian angrily protested.  
  
"It's not too late," Bail offered. "We can still talk, and we'll be able to offer you protection against the hunters."  
  
"And what help would you really offer us?" the Phindian sneered. "You only care about your rich and powerful friends. People like us don't matter to you."  
  
"You're wrong," Bail began, but she cut him off.  
  
"You think we're all criminals, don't you? I was once. I got caught and served my time. But when I got out, I couldn't find a job because no one would hire me when they saw I had a record." She gestured to her comrades. "Some of these have the same story, but others just got down on their luck, got fired and lost their homes. Do they deserve this? What do we owe you that we should stick our necks out for you? You've done precious little for us, Senator." She spat out the title like a curse.  
  
Bail remained silent. The stories she told him were not unfamiliar to him, but there was not much he could do. Every system had cracks through which innocent people fell. True, lately the cracks had gotten wider, but he had his hands full with a Senate that seemed increasingly unable to do anything effective. Or so he had told himself. He found he could not in all good conscious defend himself in front of these people, but to his surprise, Anakin defended him instead.  
  
The boy stepped up to the bars, fixing the Phinidian in his gaze. "Senator Organa is the best friend you've got. He's always trying to help people."  
  
The Phindian scoffed, "He makes the bounty hunters look like ministering angels. Anyway, there's no point trying to convince us to help you. We already sounded the signal for them. They'll be on their way by now."  
  
So that's what the alarm that had woken Padme was, a signal to the bounty hunters.  
  
Anakin knew it was up to him down. He emptied his mind of all fear, anxiety, or thought, opening himself fully to the Force. It flowed through him, infusing his body and mind with its warmth and pure energy. There was no hint of the beast now. It was as if it had never existed. Anakin focused on the cage's lock and it fell open, the door swinging out. Their captors raised their rifles at him as he stepped out of the cage. Without taking his eyes off the guns, he turned his head slightly toward his friends. "Follow me," he said. "It's all right." He walked resolutely on toward their captors.  
  
"Shoot him!" the Phindian yelled. She raised her rifle and fired at him.  
  
Anakin raised his hand and deflected the bolt harmlessly up into the ceiling, as if swatting away a fly.  
  
Stunned, the Phindian stepped back. The others all lowered their guns in shock. Anakin kept walking forward, the others following him, amazed at what he had done, but still fearful.  
  
When she realized the others were going to let him go, the Phindian raised her rifle at him once more. "You are not getting away!" she growled. "Shoot him, or the bounty hunters will shoot us!" Again she fired upon him, and several of the others did as well. Anakin raised both hands and deflected the shots up, calling them to him and sending them toward the ceiling, his mind calm and clear. His palms tingled, but they were not hurt. He gestured toward the Phindian and the rifle flew out of her grasp and into his. He pointed the gun at her as the others stopped firing at him.  
  
"We are leaving now, and that's final."  
  
The crowd faltered, and for a moment the Phindian looked like she would give in, too. Then her eyes hardened with resolve. "No. We are civilians. You won't harm us." Raising her voice, she called out to the people gathered around. "Lower your weapons and surround them. We can't let them get away."  
  
The crowd followed her instructions, forming a tight circle around him, three beings deep. They were afraid, but Anakin could see the determination in their eyes. Their only hope of escaping their exile was to turn their captives over to the bounty hunters, and they would risk anything for that hope.  
  
Anakin stared down the sights of the rifle toward the Phindian, his finger on the trigger, his certainty wavering. Surely if he shot her it could be called self-defense. But she was right. These people were all innocent. They had fallen through the cracks of the Republic, outcasts with no rights, as he had once been. Was it so wrong of them to do whatever they could for their freedom? And would he truly be justified in firing upon them?  
  
He lowered the muzzle of his rifle and looked fully into the Phindian's eyes. "Let us go," he said. It was no mind trick. It was simply a request from one outcast to another.  
  
The Phindian met his gaze with genuine remorse. "I'm sorry, kid. We can't do that."  
  
A low rumble filled the air, and four speeder bikes flew through the knocked out portion of the wall. They fanned out immediately, and Anakin knew there was no way he could get them all. He tracked one of them with his rifle, but did not fire. The four bikes settled in the midst of the crowd, surrounding Anakin and the others. They all wore the trademark helmets of the Fetts. Anakin tightened his grip on the rifle and pointed the weapon at the man nearest to him.  
  
The bounty hunter raised both hands and slowly dismounted, Anakin watching him warily. The Fett growled, "You, Jedi. Are you the one who killed my cousin?"  
  
Anakin did not lower his gun. "Yes."  
  
"Not many people in this galaxy have ever managed to kill a Fett before. You must be quite a warrior."  
  
Anakin said nothing. No trace of his earlier pride in killing the Fett remained. He had done what he had to do, that was all.  
  
The bounty hunter continued, "You know, of course, that you will pay for her death with your life. But for the sake of my cousin, I'll give you an honor no others deserve. I will kill you in a fair fight. No weapons, no armor, and no Force tricks. Just hand to hand combat."  
  
"And why would I want to do that? I could just shoot you now."  
  
"Yes, but your friends would all be dead before I hit the ground, as would you. But I'll offer you an incentive. If you fight with me fair and square, we'll let one of your friends go free, whichever one you choose. You realize, of course, that this means we will not fulfill our commission with our employer. But family honor is more important."  
  
Anakin hesitated. "And if I win, we all go free."  
  
"No. This isn't a bargain. It's a guarantee. Let me assure you, you won't win. And even if you do, you and two of the others will die at the hands of my cousins here. But if you fight fair, regardless of the outcome one of your friends will go free."  
  
What kind of a deal was that? It was no deal at all. He could shoot the hunter now, but the others would be killed. Maybe if he fought the man and killed him it would surprise the others enough that he might somehow overcome them, but he doubted it. He had no concrete guarantee, and yet the Fett's promise rang in the Force with crystalline truth. They really would let one of them go free. It was the only chance any of them had. Anakin would have to go along with it. But he would have to choose which one.  
  
He lowered his rifle and turned back to the others, his eyes pleading with them, but whether for guidance or understanding, he was unsure. The three of them returned his gaze with total trust. They knew the situation was untenable, and they understood he had no choice. How could he possibly pick among them? Every fiber of his being cried out to save Padme, but how could he condemn Jar Jar and Bail to death? He didn't want any of them to die. It wasn't fair.  
  
Bail took Padme's hand and nodded at Anakin. "It's all right, Anakin," he encouraged softly. "You do what you have to do." Jar Jar took Padme's other hand and smiled warmly at Anakin. Padme's face was still, resolved, but her eyes shone as beautiful as always, giving him courage. /You'll always be my angel,/ he thought.  
  
Slowly he turned around to face the Fett. "All right," he conceded. "But I want to live long enough to see you keep your promise."  
  
"Agreed," the Fett said. "Which one do you want as your guarantee?"  
  
Anakin shuddered and almost balked. He closed his eyes for a moment and reached out to the Force to find his calm center. There would be no tricks, but even without the Force he would fight like a Jedi. He was filled with a sense, if not of peace, then of resolution. He opened his eyes again and approached the Fett, whispering the name into his ear. He didn't want anyone else to know until the time came.  
  
He stepped back, handing his rifle back to the Phindian, whose hands shook as she took it from him. The Fett stripped off his armor and divested himself of his weaponry while the crowd stepped back, making room for the fight. The last thing the Fett removed was his helmet. He was about Obi- Wan's age, with close-cropped black hair, and a square jaw. He was a big man, much bigger than Anakin, and well muscled. Anakin realized he might very well lose the fight, but that didn't matter. He accepted his fate.  
  
The crowd backed up, creating a much larger space in which Anakin and the Fett could fight. One of the other Fetts led Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail to the side, while the other two Fetts took up strategic positions around the circle. Anakin hoped that they only wanted to keep an eye on the fight and weren't planning to double-cross him and attack. But he could only deal with one problem at a time.  
  
He and the Fett circled each other, sizing each other up, each waiting for the other to make the first move. /Knowledge and defense,/ Anakin repeated to himself. /Never attack./ He knew perfectly well that anger was his weakness. He could not afford to let it rule him this time. He would wait as long as it took.  
  
The Fett, however, grew tired of waiting. He darted in quickly, his fists swinging towards Anakin's head. But it was a feint. At the last instant, his other fist came up low to catch him in the stomach. But Anakin saw the blow coming. He blocked it with his forearm and backed away.  
  
The Fett was impressed. It showed in his eyes, but only for an instant before he again moved in with another feint combination. Anakin once more blocked the blow, but this time the Fett did not let him get away. He pursued Anakin with a flurry of punches. Anakin blocked them all, but was being pushed back toward the crowd. He leaped high, somersaulting over the Fett's head to land in the clearing. The Fett spun, smiling in satisfaction before once again pressing the attack, again forcing Anakin backward. Anakin gave way, then abruptly planted his feet and aimed a solid blow to the Fett's throat. His timing was perfect, and the blow should have landed, but remarkably it did not. At the last instant, the Fett blocked Anakin's punch and ducked low, taking advantage of Anakin's moment of surprise to swing his leg out and dump Anakin onto his back. The Fett jumped on top of him, raining blows upon him. Anakin blocked them, but now he was pinned to the ground. He grabbed the Fett's wrists, but the bounty hunter used his grasp against him to pull him up and butt his forehead against Anakin.  
  
It felt like a steel plate had slammed into his skull. Dazed from the blow, Anakin could not resist when the Fett released one of his wrists and smashed the heel of his hand into Anakin's nose, breaking it. The pain spiked straight into Anakin's brain, but he let the pain sharpen his focus. The Fett hesitated, complacent at having scored two hits against the Jedi. Anakin pulled down on the arm he still held while landing a blow on the side of the Fett's head with his free fist. He twisted the Fett off him, rolling over and following through with a kick to the man's side. Anakin flipped up onto his feet and rushed the Fett before the man could get up, but astonishingly the Fett broke free, kicking Anakin in the chin as he spun out from under him.  
  
Anakin reeled, shaking his head clear. He had sparred many times at the Temple, and the Fett was easily as fast and powerful as any Jedi. He had sorely underestimated his opponent. He had to fight as if the Fett really was a Jedi. More than that, he had to fight as if he were sparring with one of the masters, someone who he knew would beat him, but from whom he could also learn.  
  
The Fett charged him again, aiming another blow at his nose, but Anakin ducked under his arm and punched the Fett in the same spot he'd kicked him before. The Fett winced but did not waver in his attack. They both fought furiously, Anakin ignoring the blows which the Fett got through his defenses, waiting, watching for every opening the Fett gave him, and then landing a solid punch of his own, strong and true. Slowly the Fett began to tire, but he was wearing Anakin down as well, and Anakin doubted he would outlast the bounty hunter. The Fett's punches were weakening while Anakin's remained strong, but the Fett landed more of them.  
  
They scuffled closely, Anakin trying to keep in a close enough range to reduce the impact of the Fett's blows, but he was growing weary, and he failed to notice the Fett shifting his weight. The Fett slammed his shoulder into Anakin's broken nose. Pain exploded through his entire body, and his legs collapsed beneath him. Weakly he threw his arms up to shield his face. The Fett drove his heel into Anakin's stomach, crushing the breath from his lungs. This was it. Anakin could no longer attack, and he could barely defend himself. As the final blows fell, he heard a loud whining in his ears that faded quickly into a buzz. A bright light flashed in front of his eyes, and he lowered his arms, surrendering to it. He was dead.  
  
So why did his nose still hurt?  
  
Confused, he opened his eyes just in time to see the Fett's headless body toppling sideways. Behind him stood Bo-Neda, her white lightsaber shining. She glanced to the side, but Anakin couldn't see what she was looking at. He still didn't understand what had happened or what she was doing there. Then she deactivated her saber and knelt over him. Before she could say anything, Padme's face suddenly appeared beside her, followed by Bail and Jar Jar, all of them looking desperately worried.  
  
"Ani, are you all right?" Padme asked, breathless with fear.  
  
Dazed, all he could say was, "What the f*** happened?" Obi-Wan didn't approve of swearing. In fact, he could feel his master beating him on the nose with his lightsaber hilt.  
  
Another face swam into his vision, one of the Masters. "Oh, sh**." Now he was really in trouble. But she only smiled at him.  
  
"Lie still, Anakin," she said as she cupped her hand over his nose. He felt a warm tingling sensation all through his sinuses, and the pain ebbed away. It still hurt, but now he could think clearly.  
  
He was pulled up into a sitting position, and six voices began talking at once. Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail were explaining why Anakin had been fighting bare-handed with the bounty hunter and why Obi-Wan wasn't with them, and the three Jedi were explaining how they had heard the signal meant for the hunters, and how they had tracked their location and snuck up unseen on the crowd while everyone's attention had been focused on the fight.  
  
As the six of them babbled on, Anakin glanced around the room. The four bounty hunters lay dead, and the crowd had disappeared. They probably vanished into the underground as soon as the Jedi appeared. He spied his lightsaber lying on the ground several meters away. The Phindian had left it for him. He reached out his hand and called the weapon to him. The saber was blackened where it had shorted out, but he would be able to fix it.  
  
"We have to go for Obi-Wan," Anakin said, cutting through the cacophany of voices.  
  
Adi glanced at Bant. "You take Bo-Neda and the others up in the speeder to the traffic lanes where they can hail an airtaxi. Bo-Neda will escort them back safely. Then you come back with the speeder, and we'll go find Obi- Wan."  
  
Bant nodded, and she and Bo-Neda stood up. Bail rested his hand on Anakin's shoulder. "You were right. We'll sleep in our own beds tonight, and Obi-Wan will be safe." He gave Anakin's shoulder a squeeze.  
  
Jar Jar shook his hand, gushing, "Yousa saved my again. Yousa one bombad Jedi."  
  
Padme only smiled and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "We'll see you soon, Ani. Now go get Obi-Wan."  
  
The three of them stood and climbed gratefully into the speeder. Within moments they were gone.  
  
Anakin stared after them for a moment, still trying to get his bearings after the fight and all that he had come so close to losing. He glanced around him at the empty room again, then looked at Master Adi. "What will happen to these people?" She just looked at him, and he continued, "They were counting on the reward money to get them out of here. What will happen to them now?"  
  
Adi frowned slightly. "They captured you and would have turned you over to the bounty hunters. Are you suggesting we should reward them for that?"  
  
"These people had no choice," Anakin persisted. "Can we really blame them for taking the only chance that was offered to them?"  
  
Master Adi pursed her lips, studying Anakin for a long time. At last she relented, "I'll look into it. I can't make any guarantees, but no one should have to live down here like this."  
  
Anakin nodded in gratitude, then fell silent. He felt awkward around the other Masters, as if they always disapproved of him. They did not speak again until Bant returned with the speeder. Master Adi and Anakin climbed in, and Anakin led the way back to the building where Obi-Wan was hiding.  
  
They were able to take the speeder part of the way into the building, but eventually the doors became too narrow, and they had to get out and walk. Despite his headache, Anakin ran on ahead, leading them deeper and deeper into the building. He could not sense Obi-Wan at all. Surely he would have felt it if his master had died. He found the room where they had camped that night and began shouting Obi-Wan's name, but there was no reply.  
  
Desperately he raced down the hall, searching for the little room in which they had hidden him, but Anakin's fear clouded his memory, and he couldn't remember which was the right room. He peered into each doorway, but he found no one, and his calls elicited no response. Panic engulfed him. The bounty hunters may have found Obi-Wan after all, or some predator might have discovered him and dragged him off for a meal.  
  
Bant and Master Adi caught up with him. "I don't know where he is!" he cried.  
  
Bant laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Concentrate, Anakin," she instructed. "You do know."  
  
"But I can't feel him! Can you?"  
  
Her silver eyes dimmed. "No, but it probably just means he's unconscious. Rely on your memory to tell you where he is. Close your eyes, now, and focus."  
  
Anakin closed his eyes, struggling to rise above his fear, running through the discipline for memory recall. "We walked down this hall," he said, turning and beginning to walk, eyes still closed. "We turned at this corner, and ...." He opened his eyes and dashed down the corridor, stopping in front of the right door. In the dim light he could see the counter, but he saw no sign of Obi-Wan, nor could he feel his presence. "Master?" he whispered brokenly as he moved behind the counter, afraid of what he might find.  
  
Obi-Wan lay on the floor, still as death. Anakin's cloak had been flung aside, and he could see the blood staining Obi-Wan's chest. His master's face was pale. Anakin knelt beside him, carefully gathering Obi-Wan into his arms. "Master, please," he begged. "Please, wake-up. Please be all right. I came back. I said I would. I'm here now. Please, Master."  
  
Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered. After a moment his unfocused gaze settled on Anakin. His lips twitched in a weak smile. "I've been expecting you," he sighed.  
  
Anakin clutched Obi-Wan to him, and for the first time since he had left Tatooine, he cried.  
  
  
  
*****************************  
  
All right, give me your vote: Who do you think Anakin should have picked to save and why? Sorry, this isn't exactly a "choose your own adventure" story. I already know who he picks, and I'm not changing it, but I want to know who YOU would vote for! 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Title: Labyrinth  
  
Author: Jedi Rita  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
  
  
Chapter Thirteen  
  
  
  
A week after the abductees had been safely returned, the Senate called for a vote on a bill that would place the new cloning technology exclusively into government control. The public had been outraged by the abduction, and the anti-cloning factions had found themselves with little support. The members of the Hammer were eventually discovered and arrested, as were key leaders of the True Life Movement. General opinion held that the cloning technology was too valuable to remain in private hands where it could be easily abused.  
  
Padme attended the historic vote, but she did not sit in the Naboo/Gungan senate box. The coveted technology belonged to Jar Jar's people. It was his moment, and she did not want to take away from it by her presence. There were many people on Coruscant who found non-humans to be inferior. If she appeared at this moment, they would look to her rather than Jar Jar as the supplier of the cloning technology. So she attended the vote dressed as a handmaiden rather than a queen, and she sat in the Alderaani box as Bail Organa's invited guest.  
  
The speeches during the debate seemed to be more full of bombast than of substance. It disturbed Padme to hear herself, Jar Jar, and Bail lifted up as near-martyrs to the cause of cloning. The speakers relished assigning blame for the abduction and the fanaticism that had inspired it on all kinds of people. Government control was lifted up as the one safe harbor for such vital but dangerous technology. Throughout the debate, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine sat calmly listening, his brow furrowed in concern at the charge everyone was so eager to place into government hands. He had made it clear that while he would have preferred not to take such a drastic measure, the heightened climate of unreason and terror fostered by the abduction had made it necessary.  
  
At last the vote was called for. Padme watched as Bail registered an affirmative vote on his console, but he did so with a heavy sigh. "It will pass, of course," he observed, looking out across the Senate chamber, his expression troubled. "What else can we do? Private interests will not have the common good in mind. But to place the technology into the control of such a government...." He shook his head, then turned to her with a slight smile. "You were thinking about joining us here in the Senate. I can't say I would recommend anyone becoming a part of this government. On the other hand I must con-fess that I would be heartened to have you as a colleague."  
  
She only smiled warmly at him. She was not ready to speak her mind about her decision.  
  
Bail sighed again and stood up. "I've had enough business for one day. Will you walk with me back to my office?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
They exited the box, and Bail drew her hand through his arm. "You have proven to be a most formidable individual, Your Majesty. Far be it from me to try to influence your decision, but I think if anyone can turn the Republic around, it would be you."  
  
"You are far too flattering," she dismissed.  
  
"I think not. I saw you face down two bounty hunters with a blaster no bigger than my hand. You can be quite intimidating, and I for one would hate to cross you."  
  
"My little blaster didn't stop them, though," she pointed out.  
  
"No. That was your skill at hand-to-hand combat."  
  
Padme laughed. "Is that how you remember it?"  
  
"Absolutely, and my memory never fails me. Whether you serve as Senator or Queen, Naboo is fortunate to have you."  
  
"And Coruscant is fortunate to have you."  
  
"Would that everyone agreed with you! But I'm afraid I failed to show you a very entertaining time here on Coruscant."  
  
"On the contrary, I found my time here to be very entertaining, after a fashion."  
  
He gave her a skeptical glance. "You have a rather sick idea of entertainment."  
  
"All right, maybe 'entertaining' isn't the right word. But the company was excellent."  
  
They arrived at the Alderaani suite, and Bail led her to his office, where he opened a cabinet and removed a bottle of wine. He held it up. "Would you care for some fortification?"  
  
"Sounds excellent," she agreed.  
  
He poured out two glasses, then joined her on the couch. "You should feel honored. This bottle is reserved for Obi-Wan. But since you are such a close personal friend of his, I don't think he'll mind me sharing it with you."  
  
Taking a sip from her drink, she asked mildly, "Are you seeing him tonight?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
He shrugged. "When he wants to see me, he calls. Those are the rules."  
  
"How ridiculous!" Padme scoffed. "And who made up these rules?"  
  
"I suppose I did."  
  
"Are you at least going to talk to him?"  
  
He didn't have to ask what she was referring to. "No. He doesn't need to hear about all that." When she gave him a skeptical look, he turned the tables back on her. "Are you going to talk to Anakin?"  
  
There was certainly much they could talk about: his recklessness that had led to Obi-Wan's injury, his attack on Bail and subsequent repentance, his dream, the choice that had been forced upon him, and above all the mystery of his attachment to Padme. These things probably should be discussed, but they were too deep, too weighty. How could she broach such subjects with him? "No, I suppose I won't talk with him, either," she admitted at last.  
  
For a long time neither of them spoke, each pondering the things that could not be said. As Bail's thoughts wandered, they eventually came around to an aspect of their trip that had astounded him. "I can't believe you actually faced Anakin down when he...." He still couldn't bring himself to mention the assault out loud. "You even slapped him! I thought for certain he would attack you, but he didn't."  
  
Padme asserted, "Anakin would never hurt me."  
  
But Bail wasn't so sure. "He was out of control. Who knows what he might have done, however unintentionally? Yet you stopped him with barely more than a look. In some ways, that's even more impressive than your stand against the bounty hunters. I dare say you have a greater influence over Anakin than Obi-Wan does. Where does it come from? This is far more than a crush."  
  
Padme bristled at his characterization of Anakin as posing a danger to her. "Why do you dislike him so?"  
  
Surprised, Bail protested, "I don't dislike him. He's the one who doesn't like me."  
  
"But you are always talking about how he's so disobedient, a wild child, how he has no friends and he's out of control."  
  
"He is," Bail asserted, then considered. "Maybe he has changed since you first met him. That was, what, five years ago? Tell me what he was like then," he encouraged.  
  
"He was a sweet little boy." Padme turned her mind back to when she and Anakin had first met, recalling her own desperate situation, and the change Anakin had made in her life. "He gave us shelter in his home when we were strangers to him. He offered to help us get the money we needed to repair my ship's hyperdrive. He was so open, so enthusiastic and eager to share everything he had. And he did it -- he won that race and got us the money we needed. I don't know what we would've done without him." Her eyes clouded as she realized that the events on Tatooine had set in motion changes in Anakin that began even in the short time she'd known him. "In a way, because he helped us he ended up losing everything he had. He was freed, enabling him to come with us, but that meant he had to leave his mother and go alone into a galaxy he knew nothing about. I owe him everything, because he gave up everything for me."  
  
"He really loves you," Bail observed, "and you love him."  
  
Hopelessly, Padme nodded.  
  
With a tender smile, Bail shook his head. "One should never fall for a Jedi."  
  
Again his words seemed callous. "Why not?" Padme shot back.  
  
"Because once you fall in, you can't get back out again. Maybe it's their legendary mind tricks." He smiled, then glanced away, sinking into thought. "Or maybe it's their neediness. They devote their whole lives to helping other people, putting other people's needs ahead of their own. But who helps them?"  
  
"They help each other," Padme observed.  
  
"Yes, but that's sort of like the blind leading the blind. I can hardly be considered an expert on the Jedi, but I've known Obi-Wan a long time. For all that he is always running around the galaxy saving people, it strikes me sometimes that he knows very little about the reality those people live in. He knows only the crises: the collapse of governments, marauding pirates. What does he know of how ordinary people live their lives? About income tax and public school systems and medical insurance? What do Jedi really know about falling in and out of love, of getting married and divorced? What do they know about how to care about somebody without a code to govern the relationship? Anakin knows a little of the real world because he grew up apart from the Temple. But now they're trying to force him into their mold, and he doesn't fit very well. He is caught between two worlds. No wonder Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do with him."  
  
Padme thought back on what she had seen of Obi-Wan. For all that he had amazing skills as a Jedi, he seemed extraordinarily inept at interpersonal relationships. Perhaps that was why she had always seen him as cold. He was so unlike Qui-Gon, who had been eager to let people into his life. She knew Obi-Wan better now and could see that he cared deeply for Anakin and Bail, and in his own way for her and Jar Jar as well. Yet for all that he loved Bail, he never seemed to express it. She couldn't see why Bail would want to remain with someone who called him so rarely, but then it wasn't her life to live. Instead she had Anakin, who wore his love openly, perhaps too openly. "The difference between Obi-Wan and Anakin is that Anakin knows what he wants and isn't afraid to ask for it."  
  
"Yes, but for the Jedi that isn't a virtue. Hence the irony: I would do absolutely anything for Obi-Wan, but he will never ask."  
  
His comment reminded her of how she'd once felt about Qui-Gon. He had always been so maddeningly calm in the face of any adversity, that she at one point thought a law should be passed requiring the Jedi to demonstrate an emotion at least once a year. Anakin did not have that problem. "I think the Jedi could learn a lot from Anakin."  
  
Bail nodded thoughtfully. "If only they would listen."  
  
*****  
  
Anakin and Obi-Wan stood once more in the Council chamber. Anakin hated appearing before the Council. No matter what the subject was he always felt that somehow he was the real object of scrutiny. He felt exposed, enclosed on all sides by the Masters, unable to hide from their penetrating gaze. /See through you, we can,/ Yoda had said the first time he'd appeared before them. Anakin didn't like feeling so...naked. At least the absence of so many Council members meant that he wasn't completely surrounded. He could even have a clear view out of the window that was not obstructed by some sanctimonious Master. He was supposed to keep his eyes on the Masters as a sign of respect, but he didn't like to, and this time he had an excuse not to look at them at all.  
  
Instead, his eyes were fixed steadily on his own master. Obi-Wan might only rank as a Knight, but Anakin felt he far outweighed any of the Council members in wisdom and valor. But that wasn't why he watched him now as he gave his report on the abduction. Rather, Anakin was worried about his master's health. Obi-Wan had been near death when they had recovered him. They had immediately taken him to a hospital where he had surgery to repair the internal damage. For a day, Obi-Wan's status had been uncertain. He had lost a tremendous amount of blood, and his wounds had become severely infected. During all that time Anakin had never left his side, refusing to be treated for his own injuries until he knew his master was safe. Finally Obi-Wan had regained consciousness, just long enough to smile at his padawan and then scold him for not letting the doctors tend to him. Anakin had never been happier to receive a scolding in his life.  
  
He knew Obi-Wan would be fine, but his master had not yet fully recovered. The healers had only discharged him from the infirmary three days ago, and he still tired quickly. Though Obi-Wan hid it well, Anakin could tell his master was weary from standing in front of the Council. Surely the Masters must be able to see Obi-Wan's fatigue. Didn't they care?  
  
At last Anakin couldn't take it anymore. Interrupting Obi-Wan, he demanded, "Can't my master sit down?"  
  
Mace rested his granite eyes on Anakin. A padawan should only speak when spoken to before the Council, and he should never interrupt his own master. Anakin met Mace's gaze without flinching, and to his surprise, Mace relented. "Yes, of course. Have a seat, Obi-Wan."  
  
Obi-Wan hesitated. Not once in all the times he had appeared before the Council had he ever sat in their presence. He was shocked that Anakin had made the request, but since it had been granted he wasn't about to refuse. With a small bow, he took the seat normally reserved for Eeth Koth, grateful to get off his feet.  
  
Anakin moved to stand at Obi-Wan's elbow, but Mace offered, "You may sit as well, Anakin."  
  
Anakin was so surprised he almost forgot to bow before seating himself in Depa Billaba's chair, next to Obi-Wan. It took all his powers of concentration not to smile. He was sitting in a Master's chair! None of the other padawans would believe it.  
  
"Please continue, Obi-Wan," Mace indicated.  
  
Obi-Wan resumed his narrative. He had been telling them about the bounty hunters, and he had just gotten to the part where Anakin had abandoned his flank. Of course he didn't put it that way. He merely said that Anakin had gone to head off one of the hunters who was firing upon the others sheltered in the doorway. The Masters were not fooled, however. Every single one of them understood the recklessness of Anakin's behavior, but it was not their place to correct Anakin themselves. Nevertheless, Anakin was relieved that Mace merely raised an eyebrow and didn't give him one of his infamous lectures.  
  
Obi-Wan likewise made no mention of Anakin's outburst against Jar Jar and Bail. Instead he described Anakin's discovery that they were being tracked through the Force. At this news, all of the Masters turned their attention to Anakin, who struggled not to squirm beneath the weight of their collective gazes.  
  
"How did you know this?" Mace asked coolly.  
  
Anakin took a moment to collect himself before answering. "I could sense it, like a mental probe, only very faint." He thought Mace would challenge him. After all, most padawans were not that sensitive to the Force. But then he wasn't most padawans. Even Master Mace acknowledged that.  
  
"Could you identify the source of the probe?"  
  
Anakin shook his head.  
  
"Do you think it could have been a Sith?"  
  
"I wouldn't know what one feels like, Master," Anakin pointed out.  
  
His face impassive, Mace turned back to Obi-Wan, letting Anakin off the hook -- for the time being. Obi-Wan continued with his report, up to the point where they had left him behind. Now it was Anakin's turn. He sure hoped he didn't have to tell them everything. Obi-Wan was a different matter. He had already told his master all that had transpired -- or almost all of it. He hadn't mentioned the dream. After all, dreams were a reflection of the subconscious, and not a reflection of what one had actually done. Nor had he told Obi-Wan what exactly he had said to Bail when he attacked him, merely that he had yelled at him and said things to hurt him. Obi-Wan had been deeply disturbed both to hear that Anakin had lost control so completely and that Bail had been his victim. He and Anakin had talked for a long time about the incident, but he had not pressed to know exactly what Anakin had said.  
  
So in his report to the Council, Anakin stuck to the relevant facts: their capture by the squatters, the arrival of the Fetts, the deal they had made with Anakin, and the fight. But this time his actions were not going to get by without comment.  
  
"It was very foolhardy to make such a deal with the Fetts," Master Mace rebuked. "You placed yourself in their power."  
  
"I'm sorry, Master," Anakin said, but he didn't really mean it. "I didn't have much of a choice."  
  
"One always has choices, Anakin, but sometimes those choices are difficult to see. I'm sure your master will review this scenario with you to help you discover what other courses of action lay before you."  
  
"Yes, Master," Anakin offered submissively.  
  
Mace turned again to Obi-Wan. "Thank you for your report. As you know, the leaders of the Hammer have been arrested. They have confirmed that they were indeed aided by an independent source, but they know nothing of who or what that source is. It is unlikely that we will be able to discover anything further. The Senate has voted to turn the cloning technology over to government control, but we have no idea if that was the ultimate intent behind the abduction, or if there was another purpose. The important thing is that you rescued Senator Organa, the Queen, and the Gungan Ambassador safe and sound. For that, you are to be commended." Master Mace leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingertips before him. "You are dismissed. May the Force be with you."  
  
Obi-Wan and Anakin stood and bowed to the Masters, then left the Council room. When the door closed behind them, they walked slowly, thoughtfully down the hall. Despite Mace's commendation, Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel that he had not delivered anyone safely. That had been Anakin's doing, and if not him then at least Master Adi, Bant, and Bo-Neda. But once again the Council had found reasons to disapprove of Anakin's actions. Would his padawan never satisfy their exacting standards?  
  
Anakin was also concerned with their disapproval, but for a different reason. Troubled, he burst out, "How can Master Mace say I shouldn't have made the deal with the Fetts? What else could I do?"  
  
Not wanting to disagree with Mace, Obi-Wan mildly observed, "He was right about it placing you in the Fett's power."  
  
"But aren't you always telling me that things don't always work out the way we want? That we have to be flexible? I couldn't possibly have defeated all the Fetts. If I'd tried, we all would have died."  
  
"He may also be concerned about the effect it has on you to be placed in such a situation. You were given the illusion of a choice, but it was one designed to make you feel guilty. No doubt the Fett intended to make it worse for you, to make you feel that in choosing for one to live, you chose the others to die."  
  
Anakin was silent for moment. "It does sort of feel like that. I know they don't want to blame me, but surely they must, at least a little bit."  
  
Obi-Wan rested a compassionate hand on his padawan's shoulder. "They understand, Anakin. They don't blame you at all. Nor should you blame yourself."  
  
"I don't, Master," Anakin replied with sober conviction. "I made the right choice."  
  
But his certainty disturbed Obi-Wan. "When people's lives are at stake, there can't be right or wrong when it comes to choosing between them. All lives are valuable."  
  
"I know that. I didn't want any of them to die. But a padawan's first duty is to his master, isn't it? That's why I chose you."  
  
Confused, Obi-Wan blink twice before saying, "I don't understand. Chose me?"  
  
"If one of them was let go, that meant someone would be able to go back and get you. I had to agree for your sake. The Fett said he would kill me, and I had no reason to doubt him, which meant my choice was obvious. If you had to lose me, I didn't want you to lose us both." He paused, his gaze naked and young as he searched Obi-Wan's face for approval. "I picked Bail."  
  
Obi-Wan was completely stunned. He, like all of them, had been certain Anakin had picked Padme. Everyone understood that his love for Padme was the purest thing in his life, that he would defend her first and foremost. No doubt that partiality was part of what Mace disapproved of, but Obi-Wan could not see Anakin's love for Padme to be wrong. So to learn that instead Anakin had placed Obi-Wan's heart above his own left him dumbfounded. The choice must have broken the boy's heart. "Oh, Anakin," he whispered helplessly.  
  
Anakin sensed Obi-Wan's ambivalence. "It was the only choice, Master. I had to pick for you," he said, half-pleading. "Is that wrong?"  
  
What could Obi-Wan say? Somehow he'd never thought of it before, that he might have lost both Anakin and Bail. The realization horrified him, but what had it cost his padawan? Obi-Wan wasn't sure he could approve of such an enormous sacrifice. It was not the kind of sacrifice a Jedi would make. It was one a friend would make, so how could he reject it? Once again Anakin had stepped out of the realm of everything Obi-Wan knew, and he was at a complete loss as to how to respond.  
  
So he did the only thing he could. He reached out to Anakin and pulled him tightly into his embrace. "No, Anakin, it isn't wrong," he said at last, his heart aching. "But next time, pick for yourself." He knew Mace would not agree with such advice, but right now he didn't care.  
  
For a long moment, Anakin returned Obi-Wan's embrace. Then a thought troubled him. "You won't tell anyone, will you, Master? Especially not Bail."  
  
"No," he promised. He doubted Bail would believe him anyway.  
  
Relief flooded through Anakin. All that mattered anymore was that his master was alive, that all of them were alive, that he hadn't had to lose Padme after all. Right now any sacrifice seemed worth it if made for his master's sake. "I love you, Obi-Wan."  
  
There it was again: that overwhelming love that was not quite proper in a master- padawan relationship. The Council would definitely not approve. But for now Obi-Wan did not concern himself with their disapproval or with the propriety of it. He chose to accept Anakin's love as a gift, from one friend to another. If it didn't feel exactly right, nevertheless it felt good, and he bathed himself in its light. "I love you, too, Anakin," he said, and he had never meant any words more.  
  
*****  
  
And the beast lay dormant, curled up in Anakin's heart, quiet for now. It had much to ponder, and it would forget nothing.  
  
  
  
***********************************  
  
Epilogue  
  
(for those of you who felt this story lacked something)  
  
  
  
Several days later, Bant joined Obi-Wan for breakfast. She gave a wistful sigh as she stared down at her meal.  
  
Obi-Wan heard her and glanced up, concerned. "What is it?"  
  
Idly she shoved the food around her plate with her fork. "Why didn't you ever mention Jar Jar before?"  
  
Confused, Obi-Wan said, "I beg your pardon?"  
  
"I'm surprised you never told me about him. When he came to visit you in the infirmary, I offered to take him on a tour of the Temple. We went swimming in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. I've never met anyone who could swim as well as me." She gave Obi-Wan a saucy glance. "You certainly can't."  
  
"Sorry," he returned.  
  
Her silver eyes took on a dreamy look. "While we were underwater, he sang to me. It was so beautiful."  
  
"Yes, I've heard about Jar Jar's singing ability," he remarked dryly. "Permit me to be skeptical."  
  
Surprised, she asked, "Don't you like Jar Jar?"  
  
"I find a little of him to go a very long way."  
  
"How can you say that?" she rebuked, eager to jump to the Gungan's defense. "He's so cute. And very funny. I love his sense of humor. And he's very charming and sweet, and…."  
  
As Bant raved on with her list of Jar Jar's virtues, Obi-Wan suppressed a groan. /Force preserve me!/ he thought in despair. /Jar Jar has made a conquest!/ 


End file.
